The inspiration is free

So, last night I'm out on another moving gig. It's the third job with this woman, and it's been a joy every time--she's not far away, her stuff isn't heavy, she's a repeat customer, and she tips very well. My only complaint: boxing/organizing is "optional" with her. Meh. More money for me.

Anyway, despite our radically different worldviews, (judging by her stuff she's either a witch or a New Ager, and I'd be Vatican Swiss Guard if I was Swiss...), we really hit it off. Last night as we were loading her POD she revealed that writing is her hobby. We more or less have followed the same path regarding writing: Realized at 15 years old we wanted to be writers, always had our heads in the clouds, thought school (high school and college) were utterly useless because we already knew what we wanted to be, and we therefore didn't need to learn things like algebra, writing was tough because you never know when the "mood" will hit, blah, blah, blah.

She's in the POD, standing on top of a baby changing table with her head crammed against the roof of the unit, and I'm trying to find a space for a little kid's bike. That's when it hits us at the same time, and we start laughing hysterically.

"So, to sum up," I say, "Our collective writer genius has led me to start a shit-shlepping business, and you into foreclosure. It may be time to reassess our idea of what being a writer means..."

Good times.

We chatted for a little while longer about it, and I suggested she think about certain things. If I've learned anything in the last few years as a grant writer, it's that writing has nothing to do with "mood." Writing takes discipline and it's a lot more like being a plumber or welder than some kind of mystical conduit of magic from the Muse. Writers write. Simple as that. You must kill your distractions.

She said she had never thought of it like that before. She was going to write something immediately!

That's the kind of service I provide, folks. I move your crap and the inspiration is free.