Yesterday was a good writing day. Like, a really good writing day. The super functional monthly view of planning my writing tasks seems to be working super well, on this second week of doing it. Okay, the edges of the pages are decorated, but every daily box is only black ballpoint bullet lists of writing stuff I want to accomplish. There’s household stuff in there, too, so for June, I will be splitting those into two different calendars. It usually stays on the kitchen table (my temporary desk) next to me, open, for easy reference, especially when new things like deadlines or interviews crop up during the day.
It’s also already allowing me to spot patterns. The day after my weekly chat with Melva is usually best as a lighter day. Since this week, we met on Tuesday, that means that today is a lighter day. It’s also a blog day. I can bypass the “what do I blog about” problem by noting beforehand things I find interesting and want to blabber about for an entry. Yesterday, it was this from my morning pages:
Today is a writing day!!! Not staring at a blank wall and cranking out words (Editing Anna interrupts: if that is your best way to work, this is not a drag on that. You do you. Crank on, you magnificent cryptid.) I would rather deck a sylvan glade with fairy lights and invite my imaginary friends (aka characters) to dance. The band would be Right Said Fred
and classic era Monkees
Coin flip for who headlines and who opens. I’m good either way. The dance floor lights in tune to the music, and there is a bottomless buffet off to the side, with mismatched chairs and settees arranged in conversation groups around an assortment of small tables. Besides their own songs, the bands cover “Dance With Me” as well as “Moondance” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love With You.”
The air is not too hot and not too cold. It’s a night that could last forever, and, technically, it can. That’s one of the things I love about writing romance. Happily ever after means forever.
I’ll stop it for there, since I have been called back to the dance floor, as it were. The bands are jamming, the lights are twinkling, and the breeze feels like a kiss on my skin.
One more thing: you, yes you, are most definitely invited.
This morning, I found an important truth about my writing process. I would rather name a dozen historical characters than one contemporary one. Please remind me of that when it is time to name the heroine from A Heart Most Wanton, which will probably come sooner than I expect, because the way I am scheduling writing times now seems to be working.
Anyway, Melva and I are working on a contemporary collection with three stories. One hers, one mine, one ours. We have the ours one all worked out, and I can’t wait to see what her story will hold, which leaves only mine. Since I have met me, I know this has to have some sort of historical connection, or it is not at all happening. Do I know what that connection is? Ehhh, maybe? Kind of? Possibly? Whyever would I know something like that? Oh look, a kitty.
Make of that distraction what you will. As of this writing, my contemporary character naming process is not all that different from my historical naming process. Since all of my reference books are still in storage :weeps softly: that means I head to the interwebs. Figure out what year the character would have been born, find a list of most popular baby names from that year for their country of origin, and then open a random number generator. Generate a few numbers, write down the names that correspond to the numbers. Re-roll if needed, if you’ve hit a name that is on your automatic “no” list, or if it won’t fit this particular character or story. I personally don’t like to have hero and heroine’s names to start with the same initial, so whichever one of them comes first, that initial is out.
Melva’s and my collaborative process is a lot different. We throw names at each other and see what sticks. Seems to be working all right so far. With Chasing Prince Charming, our base for Meg’s name was that we wanted a one-syllable name. Since we had a heroine with a one-syllable name, we wanted to contrast that with a multi-syllable name for the hero, which is how we found Dominic.
Doing it on my own is…different. The vast majority of my contemporary romance reading is YA instead of adult, so I’m not finding adult names much in the contemporaries I read. For me, naming a character is important; grabbing popular names at random and slapping them down is not going to work for me. As a matter of fact, my list of “no” names for historicals (and probably carry them over to contemporary as well) are very popular in the genre…but they don’t work for me. It is what it is. So, what does work?
That’s a very good question. The name has to fit the character. That’s essential. Some characters do come with a name already, sit themselves down in a chair across from me, and introduce themselves. I am one hundred percent fine with that. I encourage it. I encourage it even when it involves a character telling me he doesn’t know what his name is, meaning the one given at birth. He has a thing that he’s called, sure, but it’s not his name. There is a difference. Yes, that has happened, and that’s one of the historicals I look forward to writing. Historical characters are pretty good about this sort of thing. I know where they come from, when they were born, which gives me a clear direction as to where to look for their names. Sometimes I will have to read through the entire section of possible/probable names until I find one that hits. Sometimes none of the contemporary to them (remember, historical characters don’t know they’re in a historical; they think they’re in a contemporary) and I go back an era or even more, to find a “traditional” name that may feel out of place for their time, but could well be a family name. the
With contemporary characters, of course I have an even longer span of history to work with, so it should be theoretically easier. Names I hear around me in everyday life. Names of friends, or their offspring, or even, for younger characters, their offspring’s offspring. Even so, I usually end up at “uhhhhh…..” as a starting point. Knowing the name helps me see the character in a visual sense. I don’t usually fantasy cast (and don’t get me started on the whole new barrel of worms that would be naming fantasy characters, so hats off to fantasy authors that do that every day) but I do have an image in my head. Height, frame, complexion, hair, eyes, facial features, manner of dress, etc.
Sometimes the image comes first, and the character makes me figure out their name, a la Rumplestilskin. None of my characters to date have actually been named Rumplestilskin. This is probably a good thing. Beyond the actual name, how do they feel about the name? Is that a name they like to hear? Do they feel that it fits them? Would they rather be called something else? If so, what? It’s not as simple as slapping a “hi, my name is X” (none of my characters to date have actually been named X yet, either.) on their shirt and calling it good enough.
Today is Housemate’s birthday, so it’s going to be a day of cavorting with some of her favorite activities. In the back of my mind, though, I am gestating the heroine for the “mine” story in the upcoming collection. Well, the proposal for it. Something to bring to the table when we confer. Anything can happen from there. What we call it, well, we’ll find that out.
Tails up ,Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. This has been a pretty good writing week for Aunt Anna. She is only two units away from being done with this round of edits for A Heart Most Errant, and she and Aunt Melva are working at getting Drama King ready to submit at the end of the month. Aunt Anna is also setting up the revisions for the second half of Her Last First Kiss, because she’s figured out what was probably the roadblock, and getting past that will actually be fun.
Let’s get the Aunt Anna stuff out of the way before we can get to the important part, aka me. The super functional planning thing seems to be working well as a base and then she can make things pretty later on; then I can help her by bopping things with my paws. Sometimes, I might try to make off with a pen or roll of washi, but seriously, who wouldn’t? Also, sitting on open notebooks or planners is super fun. Open ones are far better than closed ones, but I will sit on a closed one if that is all there is, especially if Aunt Anna needs it.
Let’s start with Aunt Anna’s Goodreads challenge. As of today, Aunt Anna is holding steady at 45 books read out of her goal of 90, which puts her at 50% of the way there, and fourteen books ahead of schedule. She did get two e-books out of the library for her new Kindle Fire, which runs super fast, so that number will be going up soon.
Aunt Anna is on fire with the Buried Under Romance post this past week, talking about classic historical romances on Kindle Unlimited (not sponsored) which is very useful for planning out her reading agenda for the immediate future. What will she write about this week? Stop by Buried Under Romance tomorrow and find out. My suggestions: books with cats in them. We’re awesome.
Okay, so now we get to the me part. A couple of days ago, I was helping Aunt Anna the way I always do, by hanging out very near her while she writes. Uncle Rheuben was home, and his way of helping her write is to be not-near her so that she can concentrate. She’s super into him, as you can probably guess. Also, he has homework he has to do on his own computer. Sometimes, though, he has to come into the kitchen, where Aunt Anna writes right now, because the kitchen is where they keep the people food.
Aunt Anna has bright pink kitty ear headphones, with lights she can turn on to mean Do Not Interrupt. If the lights are flashing, then Really Do Not Interrupt. This time, the lights were off, so talking to her is okay if it is important. This time, he did his “this is important” thing, so she took off the headphones. That’s when Uncle Rheuben pointed to me and said he didn’t like the way I was looking at the oven.
Okay, first of all, the oven wasn’t on, so I wouldn’t have got scorched paws or anything if I did put my paws on the oven door. Second of all, I have already been on the counter, on the day we moved into this apartment. Aunt Anna had told me, super loud, NOT FOR KITTIES, so I know not to go on the counter. ‘Not for kitties’ is the phrase I know that means I should leave something alone. That was the only time I had ever been on the counter. I know when Aunt Anna means business, and she totally did. No cats on counters.
Anyway, there was a discussion then about whether I had the same look about me as I did back when I was getting used to these guys, and the Cat Crack Incident happened. Back then, we were vagabonding, and were in a motel at the time. The humans were still figuring out what I like to eat, and got cans of gushy food that we will refer to as Cat Crack as the humans don’t remember its actual name. Needless to say, I LOVED the Cat Crack. The humans put it on top of the clothing rack, on a big shelf.
I wanted that Cat Crack. It was all I could think about. Uncle Rheuben, who at the time was known only as Belly Rub Guy, was trying to sleep. I got on the bed with him and looked at him, then looked at the clothes on the coat rack. The coat rack was right below the shelf where the Cat Crack was. If I jumped off Belly Rub Guy’s face, I could land on his sweatshirt, claws out, climb the sweatshirt, haul myself onto the rack, and then the Cat Crack would be mine, all mine.
Unfortunately, I did not carry out that plan , but Uncle Rheuben has never forgotten that look. He has a super good memory. I will neither confirm nor deny any plans for adventures in the kitchen, but theoretically, if I were to get on the counter, I could probably make it to the top of the refrigerator, and then be on top of the world. There is no Cat Crack there, though. Only bread and usually the crock pot. A cat can dream, though. I’ll keep you updated.
This is partly Monday’s post and it partly isn’t. I’d intended to get a regulalr post up on Monday because A) that’s what Monday posts are for, and B) I like sharing my monthly planner setups (yes, plural) at the start of a new month, especially because things in general are feeling okay for the first time in a long time, and that is definitely something I want to share here. My brain, however, had other ideas. Honestly, sometimes my brain is kind of a jerk. At the very least, she gets weird homework.
All of that is a fancy way of saying that Sunday night, I had the worst nightmare I can remember having, ever, though I thankfully don’t remember much about it, and I’m okay now. Though it was not at alla fun experience, climbing out of it did have some benefits, odd as that may sound.
For a long time, pretty much as long as I have been planning, I haven’t known what all I, personally, want to do with the monthly calendar. What’s the point as long as I’m looking mostly at the weekly views? Post-nightmare doing stuff, however, means going for the low hanging fruit, and for me, that day, it was super functional planning, which meant monthly view, black ballpoint pen, put the things where I want to do them, and have a look at what spaces are avaiable for everything else.
The flower stickers came later, while I was figuring out what else I needed. Doing arty things is super good for my brain to work stuff out, so that was a good match. I listed the top writing priorities, and then got those things in first. Blank days don’t mean I have nothing planned; they mean I’m figuring out how to best use my time and will be moving tasks there from a master list. This view does include household things and important dates for other family members, so my writing planner will look a little different.
Though I do have flying into the mist as part of my writing and planning processes, on the whole, I like structure and specifics. Not “write today,” but “brainstorm Bob and Jane waiting room scene” or “revise Bob and Jane waiting room scene from rough present tense to polished past tense.” This way, the whole “ugggh, where do I begin?” stuff is out of the way at the time I plop myself in front of my notebook or keyboard, and I already know where I’m going before I set out on my journey. Bird by Bird, eat the elephant one bite at a time, and all that. Wash one dish.
Approaching things like this takes a lot of the pressure off, and reminds me that I really do love writing, particularly romance, and I have been told I am pretty okay at it. I could stand to do it more. The right process is the one that works for me, which is the one that gets me from once upon a time to they lived happily ever after. The fact that I find it a whole lot easier and more appealing if I have pretty visuals as I do it? I call that taking the scenic route.
Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re awesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Super good week this week. Aunt Anna is thinking about doing a bonus post this weekend, or maybe a video, to make up for missing Wednesday. That turned into an impromptu family day. No regrets. She is very much getting back into the groove of things, and that means I have to be at top of my mews game, to make sure we are doing the best that we can.
First of all, my big box is still awesome, and this week, we got a new, smaller box that I m still figuring out. One of Aunt Anna’s writer friends sent her a fun package, and I have a couple of days to have fun with this new box before the humans break it down. One of the great things about humans settling into an apartment is that boxes and bags arrive and I get to inspect all packaging. It’s pretty sweet. I don’t like when the humans break the packing material with the really big bubbles, though. That stuff is scary. Humans need to take care of that outside.
Another big thing is that I love my cat bed again. Aunt Anna and Uncle Rheuben put the cat bed on top of the trunk at the foot of their bed, and yesterday, when we were all doing our own things, I hopped into it for a nap. They stopped what they were doing to point out that I was indeed in the bed. No pictures, though. Slackers. I will have to get them on that ASAP. I’m cute.
On the Aunt Anna front, I am happy to report a good writing week. Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva are on track to be done with this draft of Drama King on time. Aunt Anna’s heart is going pitty pat on that one, and Her Last First Kiss is back on the agenda. Historical romance writer friends, please be warned; she will be prone to unprompted blathering about the direction of the second half of the book. Tell her she’s pretty, give her tea, and back away slowly. If in doubt, add stationery.
Now that Aunt Anna is back in the historical romance saddle, that does mean she’s probably going to power right through the rest of the edits for A Heart Most Errant. There’s a bunch of other historicals banging on the door of her brain. Pirates, more mediecals, a whole lot of Georgians, and some English Civil War/Restoration people. Good thing I have scratchy thing near the kitchen table, which is where Aunt Anna does most of her glowy box stuff these days.
Speaking of scratchy thing, I love it. I did get a new one, and it came with catnip, and it is the good stuff. I do scratch it, and I like to loaf on it, because I exactly fit, and slow blink at Aunt Anna while she works. I can also keep an eye/ear on whoever is in the bathroom. I don’t know why the humans insist on going in there alone, when feline supervision is clearly a need.
Onto the Goodreads challenge. This week, Aunt Anna has hit the 50% mark. She has read 45 books out of her goal of 90, and 16 books ahead of schedule. I am encouraging her to do even more reading or listening to audiobooks, by throwing in a free kitty cuddle with every reading session. I even throw in motor purrs. I think that’s a good incentive.
Another part of that is her book of books, aka TBR notebook, which still needs a picture. If you’d like a word picture, hop on over to Buried Under Romance and read about that. Aunt Anna is a list maker from way back, so I am not surprised that keeping lists of this sort of thing takes a lot of the time she would normally spend thinking about what she’d like to read next out of the picture. I will remind her to take pictures and/or make a video about it, because it is super neat. It’s also very comfortable, because of course I have sat on it. I sit on a lot of stuff. Which reminds me, I better get to that.
I had big plans for this weekend, to get current-cufrrent on the revisions to Drama King, make a dent in A Heart Most Errant edits remaining, and get my planniing done early, preferably Saturday. Here is what I did instead:
That’s pretty much it. Fell asleep Friday night, dragged myself out of bed Saturday long enough to write my Buried Under Romance post, dragged self back to bed. Woke in late afternoon when Housemate wafted food before me. Ate. Went back to sleep until the wee hours. Offended self with own stench, so late night ablutions, and then, you guessed it, back to sleep. There was a bagel at some point. Sunday was marginally better, and now I feel fine. What happened? Who knows?
Whatever, the week is now before me, I didn’t do what I wanted to do for the weekend, but apparently what my body needed (see feeling fine as stated above) so I guess that is still a win. Onward. I woke this morning at a normal hour, alert, one shower and some caffiene away from getting down to business. Self-flagellation is not very productive (or at all productive, for that matter) so my intention is to bypass it. Did a slapdash planning session this morning, and now on to the next item on the list, this blog.
I did manage to read one book, I think on Friday, so that’s partial credit for reading. Zero progress on my to be viewed list, which irks me, but small potatoes as far as regrets go. While I do like having background noise when I write, I don’t put on anything TV or movie related while i write, because I am going to want to look at the screen, so that is for later. Either ambient sounds (coffee shop, rain, etc) or critical analyses of books, preferably that I have not read nor intend to read. I am flirting with the idea of listening to audiobooks in languages I do not speak. Human voices, but a much reduced chance of getting distracted with the story or information. We’ll see.
Right now, it looks like Tuesdays or Thursdays are going to be good for AnnaLog videos. I have a couple more tags in mind, and a flip through my TBR notebook, which was honestly fun to make, and is indeed helping me keep my reading goals on track. Will this translate into a similar approach to a writing notebook? I’m willing to give it a try.
Time to wind this to a close and go for the low hanging fruit of the day, fleshing out some Drama King scenes. I’m looking forward to that. How does your week look?
Yesterday. Melva and I had our Zoomer Times interview, which is now live on their YouTube channel. I would like to state that I am indeed more than a giant head in extreme closeup, and blame my visual impairment for not noticing how giant-head-y I was, but let’s ignore that and focus on the content.
Not going to lie, I was nervous, but, at the same time, this is legit an item from my childhood bucket list, “be interviewed on TV” because YouTube counts, and it’s on a channel other than my own. Which will hopefully be giant-head-free. It’s a learning curve to be sure, and one I’m glad Melva and I took.
Host Anita Finley was an utter delight, and I could not have asked for a more enthusiastic or friendlier person. They say you always remember your first time, and I absolutely will. When we first tried this whole interview thing in March, I got to be the silent partner, because my Kindle Fire wasn’t playing nicely with Zoom in general, and my contributions were relegated to broad facial expressions and gestures. Guess that mime class I very reluctantly took in high school paid off after all, because they were willing to give us a do-over once we solved the equipment problem.
The whole experinence, once we got rolling, was as much fun as I’d hoped. What writer doesn’t want to jabber about their book baby to a captife audience? Especially a willing captive. Even after what seems like “all this time,” I still get a thrill when I see Meg and Dominic on the cover of Chasing Prince Charming. I am sure that will repeat on every subsequent book with each new couple, but this was the first one.
Not only my first contemporary, my first book with Melva, but the first book that sold after a very long time of…not. Melva and I thought that Drama King would come along a lot faster, but then life hit both of us hard, and now that we have our combined wind back (or close enough) we are putting those hopes on Queen of Hearts, Dominic’s sister, Heather’s story, instead. Nobody can gaurantee that life won’t throw any more curveballs, but with each book, together or independently, we learn a little more, adapt, grow, evolve. This time, for instance, every chapter gets a number, which will make sure we have fewere “where does this bit go?” moments. Hellbent for leather, as Aunt S would have said, through the discovery draft, and then we can make everything pretty later.
I’m not sure when physical book tours will be a thing again, or if being everywhere at once, from the comfort of our own homes is the new norm, and how things are going to be from now onward. Melva is an excellent motel roommate, and traveling companion, and we do get a lot of our ideas while she drove and I wrote stuff down. I’m still the one with notebook and pen at the ready, always. That feels right.
This is all a fancy way of saying “we did a thing” and talked about stuff, so have a look if you’re so inclined, leave a like or comment if you like, and have a magnificent day.
This post is not about tableware. I have some funky dreams sometimes, and this last week, I had one of the memorable ones. Combine that with the need to unplug for a couple of days (aka why Monday’s post is here on Tuesday) which gave me the time to write privately about aforentioned dream, about blogging, and about how to get from here to there, and this post is the result.
Yes. I sleep exactly like that. Every night. Okay, not literally ,but I like the mood. Anyway, in this dream, I was personally responsible for all duties of a primary caregiver to multiple friends and family members at the same time. This included a childhood friend (whom I haven’t seen in years) who had been complicit in their own kidnapping with a charming significant other (who wasn’t that nice) and it all culminated in a kitchen full of dishes.
By full, I mean full. I don’t mean the sink was full of dirty dishes. I mean that it was overflowing the sink, the dish drainer, the counter space, the stove, the table, the chairs, every flat ?, dish upon dish upon dish upon dish. Every last dish in the house. The parent of the abovementioned friend had followed me into the kitchen, literally wringing their hands over what I was going to do about it all. There was some talking; I don’t remember it, but finally, I grabbed the closest dish at hand, turned on the tap, squirted a drop of dishwashing liquid, then grabbed my rubber duck scrubby brush. “I’m going to wash one dish,” I told them. They asked again, what was I going to do now? Once again, “I’m going to wash one dish.” Which I did.
I woke soon after that, so I don’t know how long it took to take care of everything, but the bit about washing one dish stuck. As my contemporary writing partner, Melva, asked me, what was I trying to tell myself? Not a lot of room for interpretation on that one. Which is fine. Bird By Bird, and all that. Makes sense. Low hanging fruit. Open the file. Thousand mile journeys and single steps and all that. Not exactly news, but it has parked itself at the forefront of my brain, which is not at all a bad thing.
I, personally, am highly motivated by all things stationery – pens, papers, notebooks, etc- and I love to organize. Again, not at all news. True, though, and something I can applly to the whole dish thing. Melva and I set a deadline to be done-done-done-ity-done with draft two of Drama King two weeks from yesterday. There’s also getting myself back in historical romance mode, because I feel like I’ve been circling the metaphorical airport for forever on that one, and I would like to land now, please and thank you.
Today is for this blog entry, the re-do of Melva’s and my ZoomerTimes interview re-do. I may have misnamed it previously as BoomerTimes, which in retrospect doesn’t make as much sense, since the interviews are conducted on Zoom. Prepareation for that is putting on my Actual Author cosplay garb. Hair, makeup, etc. After that, there may be a few domestic matters, possibly involving groceries, and most assuredly followed with cup of tea, a good historical romance, and kitty cuddles. That’s enough for one day.
Tails up, Storm Troopers! I’m Storm, you’re aawesome, and this is Typing With Wet Paws. Exciting news this week, on a couple of fronts. Still working on the picture things, so I will get Aunt Anna to put important pictures of the week on Instagram, because there are some good ones.
First of all, Aunt Anna and Aunt Melva have a date for a do-over of their video interview with Boomer Times. That will happen on April 20th, now that Aunt Anna has her new glowy box that can use Zoom. I may or may not make a guest appearance, because the human who was in charge of the recording had his kitty with him when everything first started. I have a very good feeling about cat-positive journalism. We will let you know when the video is up, so you can watch whenever you are so inclined.
Aunt Anna is also taking a very fun workshop with Eryka Peskin about figuring out how to reconnect with things she’s always wanted to do. A lot of those have to do with writing and growing her brand. Mostly, that has to do with what kind of writer she is and the kinds of stories she has to tell, along with some planning stuff (that I will sit on.)
The biggest news on the feline front is that we now have a big box in the house. Some human furniture came in yesterday, and with it came the best part – a huge box. It is, of course, mine. I’ll explore the furniture that came in it later. I can be inside it, or on top of it, or I can scratch it with my claws. Cardboard is my favorite thing to scratch. I don’t scratch furniture. I am a good girl. I know the box can’t stay forever, but it will be here for a whilel and then there will be more boxes. The human furniture is called a storage trunk, and I am NOT allowed to go inside that, but the humans did put my cat bed on top of it, suggesting that I might be interested in sitting there, as it is near the end of Autn Anna and Uncle Rheuben’s bed. We will see about that.
On the reading front, Aunt Anna is moving through her Goodreads reading challenge, with 39 books read out of her goal of 90. and 12 books ahead of schedule as she hits 41% of the 90. She has figured out Audible Pllus very recently ,aka today, which means that she will get to listen to a lot of books while she does her blogging stuff. Also while playing Sims or surfing the interwebs.
Not while writing, though, because that is when she needs to focus on her own stories, not somebody else’s. This week, she gets to do one of her favorite writing things, and that is taking a bunch of notes and ideas and turning them into a scene that goes in the middle of some other scenes. That’s sometimes easier than completely new things, because she knows where the whole story is going and what job that scene has to do. Sometimes, also how long it has to be.
For those kinds of things, she likes to first get into the soft office, aka the beed (well, on top of it, not in it like sleeping) with a notebook and pens and an appropriate beverage. Also with me, because I am her mews and I need to be on top of everything. Literally.
Tomorrow, we will be doing some of that writing, and brainstorming video ideas. If Aunt Anna doesn’t want to hear people talking when she is writing, she can also listen to weather sounds even if that isn’t the weather that is really happening. I am not sure what to make of that but rain is her favorite, especially rain with cars driving on wet asphalt. There are other sounds, like carriage rides and crackling fires when she needs to be in a historical mindset. I, of course, add to it with very loud mototr purring, which is the most important sound.
That’s about it for right now, and I have a box to explore, so I will catch you next week.
Wednesday’s blog on Thursday should give an iindicator of how acgtual Wednesday went. I had the very odd (for me) experience of oversleeping yesterday, which gave an element of surreality to the entire day. I meant to blog. I meant to edit. I got most of my social media current and then played Sims.
Theoretically ideal wakeup time today, and since I get a feel for the things I need to do the next morning, the night before, the task list wasn’t too hard to make. Unfortunately when it came to “what do I want to blog about today?” the immediate answer was “the fluff if I know.” “Fluff,” in this case, being a family word for a word that rhymes with “duck,” and is not often said around small children.
In practice, butt in chair and fingers on keyboard allows me to move on down the list instead of beating myself up over not knowing what to write. Because I do. I do it every morning in my morning pages, aka free writing. That means whatever is in my head goes on the page. This morning, for example, I filled two entire pages out of arranging the pens in my ballpoint pen cup in rainbow order and writing down my opinions of each one. That’s all. Not earth shattering in importance or creativity, but I did it and came out of it ready to take care of this whole Thursday thing, or at least figure out my priorities.
Right now, they feel like a jumble. My main job ondraft two of Drama King is to look for missing scenes, smooth out rough ones, and get word count up to goal. For A Heart Most Errant, I need to get back to addressing the first round edits and get it back to my editor. I paid for her services. I should use them. I want to use them.
There is also prep work to be done for this upcoming Saturday, where I waill present my workshop, Play in Your Own Sandbox, Keep All the Toys. This is my most popular workshop, and I love giving it. I also need to reacquaint myself, because ehhhh, it’s been a while. I could probably learn from taking my own workshop. Going back to the well, as it were, is usually a good idea.
Yesterday, I had to run some adult-y errands in the morning, and planned to attack my backlog of work like a valkyrie, but what did I do instead? Completely tear apart my shelves that hold notebooks, pens, paper, etc, and re-making them with the help of some distressed wooden crates, putting, as my mother would have termed it, “like with like.” I hated that term when I was younger, but Mom was on to something. This also means that my inability to find the set of A5 divider pockets I bought on that same outing extremely vexing because it’s not where it’s supposerd to be, even though the binder and papers are all ready for them to join the fray. I can only assume they are hiding because they know what I have in store. I don’t blame them. I also know me, and I know that utter chaos is the black moment that comes before things snapping into place. Aka, don’t sweat it, keep going.
Which is basically where it leaves me right now. I have work to do, soem right the fluff now, and soem that cam be done after. Butt on chair, fingers on keyboard. Stock photos are fine when bookshelves are not ready for their closeups. The important thing is to keep making progress in the right direction.