Like most writers, I’m what I call “Productively Superstitious.”
I’ll tell you — with a perfectly straight face — that I’m not superstitious, but I’ve got a totemic piece of clothing/jewelry/keyboard/hat/underwear I dust off when I really need to get the words out.
Which is precisely where I find myself today; my wife is out of town, my darling little 2.5 year-old has decided that nighttime is a good time to climb out of the crib and play (note that “darling” was said through clenched teeth), our daycare provider has the flu (I’m Mr. Mom), and a pretty serious deadline has come and gone.
Normally, this is a job for my Lucky Writer Soccer Jersey (remember, I’m not superstitious).
It’s an old, cotton Manchester United soccer jersey that had never failed me, though the last two times I hauled it out it appeared as if its Mojo was weakening.
You can almost see through it...
I’ve put away as many as 6,000 words a day in that jersey (on one memorable day I crafted upwards of a dozen zippy campaign concepts), but after something on the order of 100 washes, I can see why the magic might be disappearing (along with most of the thread holding it together).
These things happen; like the people that wear them, lucky charms grow old.
So in case the next spin cycle is the soccer jersey’s last, I’m breaking a new totem; a free MailChimp t-shirt proudly displaying a chimpanzee.
I figure the Manchester United jersey worked because that football team is famous for pulling victory from the jaws of defeat, and usually at the last minute. (Yes, I’m faux-Euro enough to call them a “football” team.)
The chimp’s magic?
I can only cite the old saw about unlimited monkeys typing infinitely long, who eventually create the Complete Works of William Shakespeare. I figure I don’t so much need Shakespeare, so the process should happen a little faster.
Like, in an hour or so.
In other words, it’s a shot in the dark, but one that — in my desperation — I feel pretty good about.
Monkey, don’t fail me now.
Keep writing, Tom Chandler.
UPDATE: I don’t know if the Monkey cut it, and it looks a lot better on my wife anyway (but then, most things do).
Clearly, a lucky shirt isn’t something you can force, and I’m back in Manchester United land.
Tom, I wouldn’t really call that superstition (because I’m not superstitious either).
I’ve got my own charm, but I like to think of it as a placebo effect–if you think it’ll work, then it does.
Charms or totems seem goofy to your conscious mind, but isn’t it possible that you’re sending a message to your subconscious mind that kicks it into gear?
That little voice in the back of your head saying “you’re not good enough, you can’t do this,” is countered by another little voice saying “yes I can, I’ve got my [lucky object]!”
I had to knock on wood three times, spin in my chair once while rapidly tapping my feet, and spit twice into the corner as I read this post.
~Graham
Graham Strong recently posted..May Day – Day 236
If I was really superstitious about writing I’d have sacrificed an editor or client a long time ago (probably over an open bonfire).
(There have been times when the idea has held strong appeal.)
Only twice? Gads, that’s bad luck!