Tag Archives: story

The Unhealthy Writer


unhealthy-habits

Leading a healthy lifestyle is an essential thing for me. When I’m healthy, not only do I look better in my slim jeans, but I also write better, think better, sleep better, and feel better about myself. Last year, I started an exercise regime which consisted of me working out at least three times a week. Recently, however, I have deviated from the norm and, with swimsuit season approaching, I feel awful about it.

Ever since I started writing my novel, I no longer had much time to do anything else. My mornings revolved around writing, noons and afternoons around studying, I edited in evenings, and at nights, well, I slept. I know that the old I don’t have time excuse is invalid. However, I will say that I was unable to manage my time in such a way as to fit exercising into my daily, or three-times weekly, routine.

I still exercise; I haven’t let myself go completely. However, with the long hours sitting on a chair and typing, staying active has become more important than ever for me to keep my body, and head, in a wholesome state.

To tell you the truth, my work out schedule isn’t the only thing that was affected during the time I was writing my novel. I had two novel-writing attempts before, one of which I quit on near the end while the other didn’t even make it to the middle. I learned a lot from my experiences, and am learning every day. So when I started writing a novel for the third time, I wanted it to be a charm. I put enormous pressure on myself to finish this story, regardless of how tired I was or what it would take from me. Something was going to give. However, I’m glad that something was my waistline instead of my novel.

I’m sure as I embark on writing other novels that I will find it easier to manage my time, as finishing a novel will no longer be a ghost looming over my shoulder. For the time being, I started to get back on track, and went for walk this morning.

How does writing affect your daily routine?

A Reader’s Incident


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I went out to see the dentist today (just a regular check up during which he told me that I took too much care of my teeth and people like me put him out of business). Prior to being admitted into the clinic, however, I had to wait. Since I haven’t waited for anyone, or anything, in such a long time, this particular wait proved to be one of the longest.

I arrived at 12:55 to my 1:00 p.m. appointment. There was a patient in there and an old man in the waiting room. At first, I thought he was the secretary, but then I thought against it. The room seemed tiny when I entered, but now that I recall the two large coaches and three other smaller ones I realize that the room’s size was bigger than what I had thought. I sat on a grey coach, embroidered by rectangular patterns on the sitting area. The plain remainders of the coach made me believe that the dentist was trying to salvage two different sofas and ended up with that mess.

“First time here?” the man asked, again making me think that he was the secretary.

“Yes,” I smiled politely eying the fashion magazine he clutched with his thick hands.

The muted music channel was showing a video of a five-year-old song, my phone had no internet connection, the dentist’s roaring tools indicated that I will be waiting a while, and I had no interest whatsoever in aimlessly turning the pages of a fashion magazine. All I wished in that moment was to have a book in my bag that I can read to pass the few, yet dull, moments.

Yesterday, I finished reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, an interesting classic of which I will later post a review. On my shelf, there are but two unread books: The Grand Design by Stephen Hawking (a little sciency), and Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. On my iPad, there are tens of unread classical and modern titles, and I still have several bought books which are stored but not yet shipped from Amazon. I hardly ever let my iPad out of the house. Leaving a few minutes prior to my appointment, I hadn’t thought that I would need any means of entertainment.

My mother told me that in Ukraine the majority of people carried books during their daily commutes. She told me that she carried a book at all times – just like we carry earphones nowadays. Not only do I envy the pre-internet culture, but I also envy the people who can read when riding a train or a bus. We don’t have trains in Lebanon; and with our bumpy roads and crazy drivers, I get motion sickness just by staring at my telephone’s screen. Mostly, however, I’m envious because I wasn’t brought up to carry a book with me at all times. In the stretched time during my wait for the dentist, I disdained my culture the most.

I grabbed my phone, and started writing. I wrote everything that came up to my mind, from a note to self to leave a 30 minute grace period between one patient and the other in case I was incarnated as a dentist, to the recapitulation of my to-do list. I wrote till the notepad told me to stop (apparently, I had reached some character limit). Then, I got my check up, went to have my nails done, waited another few minutes for the nail polish to dry (again without being entertained), and then stood across the street to wait for a cab. In that moment, I couldn’t help but head to the book store. I’m never leaving the house without a book again.