I was going to go for an early morning walk today. The rain came down before I finished my coffee. I’m thinking of walking anyhow (it’s quite warm out for September), but there is lighting. Just last night I just watch an news story about a man hit by lighting.
National Novel Writers’ Month (NaNoWriMo) is coming up fast. I have a good first draft that I would like to turn into a great novel. I’ve had a good first draft for a few years now. I wrote Sins Of The Fathers and found a publisher after I wrote the good draft that lies waiting. It’s timely, so timely right now that if I’d written it those four years ago it would be almost prophetic. Now it has to be better than that.
I have so many bits and pieces of stories, written on scraps of paper, the backs of envelopes, in notebooks and saved on my computer, that even if I wrote all day every day I’d never get them all written. I’ll bet Stephen King felt that way once. Stephen King did not procrastinate.
Somedays, I wonder if my life would be easier if I gave up writing all together. Then I laugh, brew another cup of coffee and start writing again. I’m on my third cup today.
Some days I try to type alltogether as one word and my smarty pants computer reminds me how all together wrong that is.
Some times I think that I’d never have been a published writer if it weren’t for computers. My gods! How did they do it with all that actual cut and paste nonsense? Half the time I don’t even know where to find a pair of scissors in this house.
Because I want to end this with something of some perceived value (I guess that all depends on whose reading it), I’ll close with a quote: