As part of my endeavour to write this year, I set myself a challenge of reading 52 books. However, as of week 13, I’ve only managed to polish off 8 books so far! I’m really falling a bit behind the curve. However, inspiration struck whilst out watching Ready Player One with some friends at the weekend. As with many a movie, there are some drastic changes from the excellent Ernest Cline novel, but one that hit me on a personal level was at the end of the movie.
After successfully winning the egg hunt, Wade gains full control of the Oasis, and makes an executive decision for the betterment of human kind: Shutting down the Oasis for 2 days a week, on Tuesday and Thursday.
For me, this seemed like a great idea. Imagine all the things you could accomplish if you weren’t hanging out in the virtual world for 2 days a week? Well, back here in the real “real” world, and I am putting myself onto a similar regime, aptly named:
No TV Tuesday!
From now on, I’m going to not watch a single minute of TV on Tuesdays. Instead, I’ll crack on with something more productive with my evening:
- DIY (cough, not likely)
After completing the first night of this, I’m happy to report I succeeded, and managed to read a good chunk of a novel in the process.
If I manage to keep to No TV Tuesday for a few weeks, I might consider extending it to the full Ready Player One level of No TV Tuesday and Thursday!
The rising sun peers through the clouds. Thin beams of yellow light kissing the leaves, the grass, the road. Their warmth breathes life into a monochrome world. Grey shadows give way to golden green. A silver mist rises, reaching with fingers of moisture, stretching, grasping for the clouds above. The mist swirls, waves of water pushed aside by a rhythmic pacing. Flashes of colour come trotting across the sea of green. Each impact throwing a shower of morning dew into the air. Rainbows form and fade in an fraction of a second. Forever following the galloping colours before them. Birds sing, the clouds separate and the mist burns away. The flashy stampede continues on. Some remain for hours, others barely minutes, some go slow, others are a blur. All are the same. One foot then the other, one step at a time. Thoughts of work and life are left behind. It’s just them and the fields. Them and the park. Them and their vibrant running shoes. Starting the day off right.
Looking out. Longing. Thinking. Not knowing what it was that captured you, but knowing that something most definitely had. The ocean beat against the rocks. White waves cresting and crashing across the cliffs. The sand beneath you as golden as autumn leaves at sunset, as soft as winters first snow and as warm and comforting as a lovers touch. The wind’s constant kiss was ever present. It’s force threatening, but never aggressive, never personal. Yet it was all yours. A universe encased. No nagging interruptions, no drains upon your time. Just the constant thrust of water against land, of air against rock. It draws you in, pulling you from life, to install within you a rebirth. On the edge of the world, near the end of the map, you find what you never knew was lost – you find yourself.
National Novel Writers Month is upon us once again, and I am going to join it for the first time. Been playing around with writing natural language for humans rather then code for computers for a while now, but never managed to gather much momentum with it. Well starting tomorrow, that is going to change. I will have 1 month to write a 50,000 word novel. Easy! haha! Only 1,667 words EVERY day!! Wish me luck.