Above, you see my hectic attempt to hit the ground running, a week after returning from Europe.
To the left, we have my laptop with a little Nancy Holder sailboat (compliments of Stonecoast workshop) that has about a billion tabs open, everything from the Disney Brides message board, templates for programs, my manuscript, the Stonecoast handbook regarding third semester projects, and my email accounts that are telling me bills are due this week.
To the right, we have the programs I bought from Hobby Lobby a year and a half ago, and the templates are no longer on the Hobby Lobby website. Yet another reason to hate Hobby Lobby.
In the background, we have the slip of plastic that came with the Hobby Lobby programs, giving me a defunct web address that would have directed me to my template, and a Taco Bell cup from a lunch I should not have bought.
In the foreground (not pictured), we have a cell phone held by a crazed twentysomething writer who is wondering how exactly she's supposed to get everything done in a timely manner.
I have been awful about writing. After dropping Alex off at work, I came home and I found my place in the book, and I attempted to take it back up. And by that, I mean I stared at it for about ten minutes, decided if I touched it, I would ruin it ... and then further decided that I hated the next portion that I would have to write, and if I hated it and did not want to write it, it meant that most people would not want to read it, and maybe I should sleep instead.
But I read some books for my third semester project instead ... and then I napped for fifteen minutes.
I feel awful. Today when I dropped off Alex, I realized just how hard he's working, and how hard I should be working on this book. I'm going to try to punch at least something out today, even if it's absolute crap.
Good news, though. After a successful PT session, I turned on Fall Out Boy and did some mental character work on the guy I write to Fall Out Boy. You can imagine what sort of a person he is. But I realized he needed to be more prevalent in the protagonist's cognitive thought, and that was some sort of progress forward, even if it wasn't putting things to paper.
Now to just canon-ball into the water and do the next flipping chapter.
To the left, we have my laptop with a little Nancy Holder sailboat (compliments of Stonecoast workshop) that has about a billion tabs open, everything from the Disney Brides message board, templates for programs, my manuscript, the Stonecoast handbook regarding third semester projects, and my email accounts that are telling me bills are due this week.
To the right, we have the programs I bought from Hobby Lobby a year and a half ago, and the templates are no longer on the Hobby Lobby website. Yet another reason to hate Hobby Lobby.
In the background, we have the slip of plastic that came with the Hobby Lobby programs, giving me a defunct web address that would have directed me to my template, and a Taco Bell cup from a lunch I should not have bought.
In the foreground (not pictured), we have a cell phone held by a crazed twentysomething writer who is wondering how exactly she's supposed to get everything done in a timely manner.
I have been awful about writing. After dropping Alex off at work, I came home and I found my place in the book, and I attempted to take it back up. And by that, I mean I stared at it for about ten minutes, decided if I touched it, I would ruin it ... and then further decided that I hated the next portion that I would have to write, and if I hated it and did not want to write it, it meant that most people would not want to read it, and maybe I should sleep instead.
But I read some books for my third semester project instead ... and then I napped for fifteen minutes.
I feel awful. Today when I dropped off Alex, I realized just how hard he's working, and how hard I should be working on this book. I'm going to try to punch at least something out today, even if it's absolute crap.
Good news, though. After a successful PT session, I turned on Fall Out Boy and did some mental character work on the guy I write to Fall Out Boy. You can imagine what sort of a person he is. But I realized he needed to be more prevalent in the protagonist's cognitive thought, and that was some sort of progress forward, even if it wasn't putting things to paper.
Now to just canon-ball into the water and do the next flipping chapter.
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