One of the problems - yet another, you cry scornfully? - of being a writer is the endless chattering of words. The continual jabbering away in the head. Questions about life and general stuff, of course, but also worries about all sorts of things to do with writing visiting and events, both those to come, and those done. Then the briefs and ideas you are talking to yourself and the ones you should be talking to yourself about.
Then there's the nagging doubts about the actual writing: is it okay? does anyone read it? why is my head so empty? does anybody even know my book exists? Move from that into the constructing with and editing of words, the weighing of one phrase, word or sound against each other, one after another after another. Words. Words. I love words, but sometimes I feel as if I can never get away from them.
I tried to relax. Reading? More words. TV & screen stuff? The critic in the head keeps going, analysing all the plot options. Painting? Drawing? Working with the hands? Those make the mind even freer to keep talking.
But I've found a way, a totally brilliant way to get an hours peace. Djembe drumming! Otherwise known as African drumming! Even though I am the most feeble drummer, I just love it. One of reasons is that time spent djembe drumming is an almost totally word free zone. When I drum, there's no room for words in my head. If I stop concentrating-and-counting for a second - even to think the words "Yes, I've got it!", my rhythm is likely to go, and I'll have to work hard to get it back. Djembe drumming quiets the mind - and it's fun and it's a sociable thing. It's a very unwriterly experience.
Though there's a teeny tiny problem. I'm not good at music theory, and complex counting alarms me, so quite often I find myself muttering " "ONE and TWO and NO! and NOW" or "CHIP BUTTY, CHIP BUTTY, CHIP BUTTY" to keep a particular rhythm in my head and hands. So not quite truly wordless, but almost as good. Djembe drumming, the writer's friend.
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