Writing
In the mornings
I started writing early in the morning because I had children and that was the only time the house was quiet. Not all of my writing in those hours was creative or scholarly. Some of it was for other aspects of my life as a professor—tests, handouts, syllabi, meeting agendas. But when I became serious about scholarship and creative writing,, the early morning habit became much more a part of my psyche. I shuttled the tests, handouts and other similar endeavors off to other parts of the day. That was also when I discovered the magic of 5:00 a.m.
It’s quiet. It’s dark outside. Everybody is asleep. Only the early risers make sounds. I feel strangely at home with those sounds: the paper carrier’s throaty car pulling up to the mailbox, my dog’s habit of emitting an experimental, strangely lyrical bark or two even though no one’s there, the night bird that croaks to signify it will soon be time to find a place to roost for the day. I am one with these creatures as my habits bump against theirs.
Baring an emergency, nobody calls me at 5:00. Nobody drops in to see me. Nobody turns on a television. Nobody invites me out for a beer. Nobody has a problem to talk with me about, a confession to make, a story to share. Even email and Twitter and Facebook settle into virtual limbo as people sleep, and posts and tweets and other messages cease to circulate through cyberspace. I do my work. That is all.
That is the main joy of 5:00 a.m.: my sense that I am keeping a promise I made to myself, to do this work every day. Those promises, after all, are the hardest to keep—those we make to ourselves.
Poet and Instructor, H. William Rice
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The "Process"
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Dr. William Rice
Dr. H. William Rice is a published poet and Chair of the English Department at Kennesaw State University.