I’ve been playing “The Blame Game” for a few weeks now. As in what kind of excuse can I come up with not to write today?
Gator: Well, she grew up enough that she can go play in the yard for a few hours if the weather is good, so I can’t use the excuse of having to watch her. Make no mistake, the last two months with her has made us watch a whole lot of episodes of Dog Whisperer, but it’s not her fault. It’s mine.
Day Job: It bleeds over into my home-life. That shit’s gotta stop. When I clock-out of there, I have to seriously clock-out and let it go.
Beta Reports: *ank* Can’t use not having any beta reports anymore. I have TWO sitting here; one hasn’t even been opened.
Push Pins: I didn’t have any for my brand-spankin-new story board last weekend. Yeah, that was lame. I have some now, FYI.
No Deadline: I wasn’t so much given a deadline as told by my husband – after explaining how long it takes to get traditionally published – that I needed to get my ass back in gear. By saying that he reminded me that he’s in my corner, even when I feel like no one else is. It was a push that I needed.
Those are just a few of the excuses I had. I could list more, but that’d just be boring. Suffice it to say, I had lots of them and I suck because I gave into them. While I did, though, I read a few articles (read: HUNDREDS – no, I’m not exaggerating) on writing and the state of the industry. The ones on the industry were disheartening to say the least. However, I did come upon a couple that made incredible sense.
This was one of those articles: August McLaughlin, The Writer’s Golden Hour: Making the Most of Our Time. It made me realize that I need to start getting up at 6:30 in the morning again. Granted, sleep has been something I’ve desperately needed, but have those extra two hours really helped? Nope. I’m still tired. Worse, I’m not getting any writing done because I need at least an hour – sometimes more – to decompress and get organized when I wake up to write.
The other article is now lost to me, I can’t even remember who wrote the thing. Was it even an article? I think I half-way remember, but rather than slap something on someone who didn’t say it, the gist was something like they got a new desk when they got their first royalty check… and couldn’t write a word at that desk. On June 9th I first sat down at this desk and tried to write the new material for book two. Um, it kinda didn’t work. I can edit on book one, I can read, I can blog like hell, but actually crafting a story at this desk isn’t working.
You know what did work for me? The kitchen table.
I wrote at least four drafts of book one at the damned kitchen table.
It made me think about a blog post I wrote a good while back.
I have one last beta read in line that I owe someone, so that and moving Gator’s bed into my bedroom is getting priority today. Tomorrow, I’m moving the laptop back into the kitchen where I once wrote over sixty thousand words.
Sometimes, a desk is not a desk. Sometimes, it’s a hindrance.
Or is it just another excuse?
Wish me luck.
I used to always write in blue notebooks. They had to be blue. In my late 20’s, I developed arthritis in my hands, so I had to switch to the keyboard. At first, it seemed like the words kept getting botched, but now I feel at home right here (eying my white keyboard). It’s funny how we have these habits, these creature comforts, that make the words seem to flow more easily. I smiled as I read your blog post above, and I’m hoping the words start running like water down a gutter after a late-summer’s thunderstorm.
My notebooks have to be those small, black college ruled notebooks or I want no part of them. Like the one I carry now, full of notes, that I use to show my husband that I really am working on book two. Honest.
How funny is that? Odd birds, we are.
The kitchen table is my writing sweet spot, too. 😉
Thanks so much for the lovely shout out to my post. It means a lot to know that it’s message struck a chord with you. Best of luck with your morning writing goals. I’d love to hear how it goes.
Hi, August! Good to see you again. 🙂
Thanks for the well wishes. Alas, I peeked open an eye at 6:30 and groaned, and went back to sleep. It was funny because I didn’t set an alarm clock, my brain just managed to click over to ‘engage’ for five seconds and wake me up. It apparently didn’t like what it saw – or these old bones protested too much. I think it was both. The road to Hell and good intentions and all that rot.
Mid-day seems to be my golden hour, so there is still hope.
Good luck chica!!!
I’ve never been able to write in the morning and I still can’t! LOL I’m a night owl, but you can figure out your most creative time and organize your day around it… Really if you can just steal and hour a day you’d be surprised how much you can get done! 🙂
You can do it!!!
Lisa 🙂
Hey, Lis!
You know, we once could be up writing twenty-four hours plus at a stretch – the middle of the night was my golden hour back then. How we used to be able to do all that, I’ll attribute to being much younger and much less sane. Or at least, a different version of sane. 😉
I’m awake. I can obviously type. It’s a start.
*hugs*