Morning vs Night: When Creativity Strikes

Daily writing prompt

Are you more of a night or morning person?

View all responses

Vampiric author? Night writer? Darkest around the dramatist? Don’t know if any of these nicknames fit, but it is true. I am up most nights when I don’t feel like the living dead, usually writing. This past Thanksgiving, I was editing a short—Thanks 4 Giving: Grandpa vs. The Wishbone— for the family. When I started college, however, I would go days on the bare minimum of sleep to keep up with assignments. My habit worsened when I realized a Fiction Writing lecture was on campus.

Our mentor was everything high school said a professor wouldn’t be. He was a fountain of inspiration, from his tales of his drunken youth to his music about redneck culture. His class was a breeding ground for ideas. One afternoon in the English wing of the Tutoring Center, a positively marvelous idea for a novella struck me. I was afraid to sleep on it, fearing I might lose the nerve or the notion in my head. I didn’t move from the computer for hours until it was time to return home. Even then, I couldn’t stop. I pulled out my laptop and continued writing. It wasn’t until eight the following day that I finally stopped long enough to eat, down a cup of caffeine, shower, and pack for school.

When I set foot on campus, I made a beeline for the computer lab and printed four chapters of my masterpiece. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the bench before my professor’s office, eyes wide as I tried not to doze off. My mentor stepped out of his office, motioned me in with a smile, and then disappeared behind the door.

On my third cup of coffee, keeping my hand from shaking as I handed him the papers was challenging. As he skimmed the title and first few paragraphs, he glanced over the top of the paper, and I bounced one leg to keep the rest of my body still. His feedback was crucial to my growth as a writer, and I was eager to hear his thoughts.

“Are you… okay?” he asked, his tone concerned.

I replied, “Never better,” and explained that I had worked through the night to produce the gem he held. My professor blinked, slightly leaned forward, and said, “Are you a vampire?”

At the time, I laughed; now, looking back, it makes sense. No matter how tired I became, I was always fine once the clock struck midnight.