Writing is Hard

write write write write write… WAIT!

Is this making any sense? Did I describe that right? Did I over-describe it? Is the prose plain? Is it precious? Is it commercial enough? Too commercial? Did I do that thing that that one reviewer on GoodReads really hated?

Do I care enough about that one reviewer on GoodReads to actually change my prose for this person who didn’t get the book anyway?

Okay okay okay… words to do. Write it ugly. Just keep going…

WAIT!

Do I really know that fact? Hold on, let me look that up. Well, 15/100 women get pregnant using condoms, skipping one birth control pill a month can make you fertile, so YES, this character CAN get pregnant!

Wow. You’d think a woman with four kids would know that birth control fails. But then, I was never really trying to control it–I just sort of let it happen.

Okay, stop cruising Wikipedia, nobody cares about condom brands.

And write surf Twitter write answer e-mails write I absolutely NEED to be on FB now…

AUGH! I’m running out of allotted writing time… WRITE MOAR WRITE FASTER WRITE NOW!!!

Oh, wait… do I have to pee?

That took way longer than I’d planned. Probably best not to text message when I do that. Now, where were we…

Oh yeah.

Write.


*yawn*

Time for my nap?

Already?

Well, got a lot of driving to do this afternoon.

Can’t fight the nap– it’s damned important.

But first, let’s see if the fascist traitor in the WH has gotten us involved in a war lately… *yawn* Dammit, just when a Republican was going to say, “Gee…I didn’t USED to care about the weather in St. Petersburg–why is THAT important?”  *yawn* But seriously. Nap.

Okay, kids, shopping, getting back to that whole, you know, writing thing–no, I don’t have any thumbtacks. No, I don’t know where they are. NO YOU CAN’T PUT THAT HERE. If you guys didn’t keep putting shit here, I might know where the thumbtacks are! Okay, yeah. Get stuff in the fridge and I’ll make dinner. Yeah, sure you can have a cracker, knock yourself out. Writing, why do you ask? I know I haven’t written anything in ten minutes, I’ve been dealing with crackers getting set on my desk and finding thumbtacks. No, I haven’t found them. That’s your job!

Okay, the stuff is put away? Time to cook!

*fry chicken* *write* *fry chicken* *write* *make salad* *give up on writing and sit down to watch TV and eat*

*text friend text friend text friend*

*feel bad about not being completely mentally present for family in front of television*

*put phone deliberately down*

Oh, time for the kids to go to bed?

Dammit.

Night guys.

Now, time to write!

But first, find my jam…

That’s not it…

That’s not it…

Oh God, who put that on my Spotify?

Okay, that’s it…

And write!

Wait, where was I?

Wait, what else fell into my inbox?

Wait, where was I again?

Oh God–this is a sequel– do my descriptions match? *goes to bathroom* *reads own book for twenty minutes on toilet* SHIT! Descriptions don’t match!  *goes back and backfills*

Okay, that took twenty minutes. I’ve got an hour left of writing time, and *yawn* That nap again…

The long, six-hour one between now and then…

Wait!

I have to blog!

God DAMMIT, I was just fighting off sleep.

*blog* *blog* *blog*

Okay… write!

Wait. Where was I again?  Oh my God! That’s all I’ve done all day?  HOLY FUCK I’M BEHIND SCHEDULE!

write write write write write write write write write write write write write write write *yawn*  Okay. I can send this to my beta.

Time for bed.

I’ve got to write again in the morning.