Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Procrastination: A Stream of Consciousness

A Writing Wednesdays Post

I don’t want to write tonight. I came upstairs and am sitting in my little “office” in my bedroom, writing playlist playing, Honeysuckle candle burning, and I stare at the computer.

It’s been sixty minutes, and yet, nada. I’ve showered, deleted emails, added more albums to my writing playlist. Searched to see if there are tours for Nathaniel Rateliff, Jason Isbell, or The White Buffalo anywhere near me this summer.

The answer is no.

Looking at my school email I see an email from a former student who is now a junior in high school. She wants to interview me about our new community read for the school newspaper. For forty minutes I craft my reply, complete with links to sources and book recommendations for all of the high school students.

I might be procrastinating.

I also just googled whether you capitalize “junior” or not for that above paragraph.

I’m shaking my head at myself, though you all can’t see that.

I then head to Pottery Barn’s website. The James Recliner is 25% off, but the sale ends tonight. I look at it and think about the big empty spot in our living room where it would fit perfectly. Then I think about summer vacation and decide the empty spot can sit empty.

I come back to the blank page.

I click over to Twitter and see that Samira Ahmed’s Internment  is now on the NYT Best Seller list at number 4!!! Have you read it yet? Seriously, if not, this blog is not important. Please go order it. While you’re doing so, also order Laurie Halse Anderson’s Shout. I realize I’ve recommended them before, but they’re that important.

Thinking about those books make me consider that I need to finish a blog post so I can write a bit in my own book. I then ponder the history on my computer while writing a romance book. Hmm. Last time I wrote it looks like I searched google for information on: weather in Illinois in May, sunrise in Illinois in May, pregnancy information like when you feel the baby kick, when someone else can feel the baby kick, etc.

My history is a weird place now.

And yes, I’ve had two kids. Somehow I remember zilch about the pregnancies, at least in terms of what week anything happened. Good thing for Liam, if I’d remembered the morning sickness was that bad, for forty weeks, he might not have been here.

I kid, I kid.

Looking at that list makes me wonder if I should email a friend who is an OBGYN. I want to get this storyline right.

In the last book I consulted with friends who are: district attorneys, fire fighters, and correction officers. In this book, so far, I’ve talked to a friend about long haul trucking and another about breweries. I wonder who else I’ll chat with before I’m done.

Tupelo by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit just came on. Man I love this song. Eyes closed, head back, I just soak it in.

I wonder where I left my characters off last time in my book. I head over to the doc and open it to find out.

If you want a sneak peek, here is the inspiration for Maggie

And here’s the inspiration for Sully

Yep. So much fun.

Hmm. Looking over the beginning of chapter eight, I remember what scene I left off in. I take about five minutes and skim the chapter, fixing up some text here and there. Then I get an idea for a scene to add and begin typing. Before I know it, five minutes has become fifteen and I have added three hundred words.

I hop back over here to report back in. Interesting, I guess the advice I give my students of getting their butt in a chair and just start writing actually has merit?

Who knew.

Off to write.