Cape Cod Weather Today: Slushy. Yesterday's overcast turned to overnight rain, turned to morning ice and slush, and school delays. Ugh.
I've finished the latest round of edits on the book and emailed them off to my editor. Yea!
Now, as I look at my dusty desk piled high with (other) paperwork and the scattering of Christmas ornaments still lingering around my living room (and the mountain of laundry surrounding the washing machine) I realize I need to get back to "real life."
So how to "real" authors do this? How do they successfully make writing their life, without their life falling apart around them? How can you be creative and free when the carpet has enough dog hair sticking to it to actually look brown instead of its normal shade? Do published authors all have cleaning people and paperwork people and perfect children who clean up after themselves? Or do they stick with cats and dogs, who still have needs but not nearly the amount of stuff... and cleaning people for vacuuming up the hair...
I guess I need to come up with a writing schedule for myself, to go along with the sports schedules and school schedules. Like, from 9:00 to noon, I have to sit here and write, and if there's a deadline add more time. If the kids make the bus, the dogs get a morning walk. If not, the dogs will have to wait until lunchtime (or like today, they have to wait to see if the slush stops falling from the sky.) I've already relegated Facebook and Blogger surfing to before 7 am or after 7 pm... (that whole procrastination lecture I gave myself sunk in, I guess.)
Hopefully, I can catch up with the mountains of laundry and tumbleweeds of dog hair before they overwhelm me completely. And some of that paperwork could probably go straight into the circular file in the kitchen...
If you have any advice, please share it. I can obviously use all the help I can get !
It's funny to read this, because now I've seen similar musings on several other blogs - so I know for sure I'm not the only one with these issues! LOL!
ReplyDeleteI have clots of doghair rolling like tumbleweed around my kitchen, a mountain of clean clothes waiting to be put away (we just rummage through them when we need to get dressed), and washing up dating back from the Dark Ages.
ReplyDeleteIt's all less important than writing. My children don't notice, my husband doesn't mind: so long as we're happy and healthy, things are fine. It's a bit frantic if we know we're expecting visitors, but still: priorities.