Peg Herring's Blog - Posts Tagged "schedule"
It's Like Gilda Said
It's always something.
If, for example, a person has worked to get something, say a manuscript, done, and if the day comes when that manuscript falls into shape quite nicely and she begins to salivate at the prospect of sending out some submission letters, a call will come to say that a relative who yesterday was perfectly fine is now in the hospital and needs her immediate attention.
I'm guessing that when the day comes that this same author sells her manuscript to the biggest publisher in the U.S. and receives an advance check for 3.4 million dollars, a call will come to let her know that a heretofore unheard-of sister who was given away at birth needs a kidney transplant, and said author is the only possible donor. Of course, the sister will reside in New Zealand and have eleven children, some of whom are still in diapers, and she will also be the director of an old folks' home that will close unless someone steps in to help until she recovers from her surgery.
If, for example, a person has worked to get something, say a manuscript, done, and if the day comes when that manuscript falls into shape quite nicely and she begins to salivate at the prospect of sending out some submission letters, a call will come to say that a relative who yesterday was perfectly fine is now in the hospital and needs her immediate attention.
I'm guessing that when the day comes that this same author sells her manuscript to the biggest publisher in the U.S. and receives an advance check for 3.4 million dollars, a call will come to let her know that a heretofore unheard-of sister who was given away at birth needs a kidney transplant, and said author is the only possible donor. Of course, the sister will reside in New Zealand and have eleven children, some of whom are still in diapers, and she will also be the director of an old folks' home that will close unless someone steps in to help until she recovers from her surgery.
What Was I Thinking?
Some time ago, my editor at LL asked when I might be finished with the second book of the Dead Detective series. After a pseudo-scientifi process, I told her June.
Wrong. Here's why.
First, I am an incurable optimist. I tell myself that I will write for four hours/day, five days/week. That never happens, of course. Life intervenes.
Second, creativity does not like being forced. Even if I could sit before my computer for four hours a day, five days a week, much of that time would be spent cursing an unmoving cursor.
Finally, I'm just a tad anal. I can't just write it and say, "There it is." I have to read it over and over, making it better. Then I have to get people I trust to give me feedback. Then I read it again. More than once.
So I started telling myself that July starts with the same two letters as June, and the editor might not notice. But July is fading fast, so it might be...well, it won't be January. I hope.
Maybe I should have told her from Day One that I am a cockeyed optimist.
Wrong. Here's why.
First, I am an incurable optimist. I tell myself that I will write for four hours/day, five days/week. That never happens, of course. Life intervenes.
Second, creativity does not like being forced. Even if I could sit before my computer for four hours a day, five days a week, much of that time would be spent cursing an unmoving cursor.
Finally, I'm just a tad anal. I can't just write it and say, "There it is." I have to read it over and over, making it better. Then I have to get people I trust to give me feedback. Then I read it again. More than once.
So I started telling myself that July starts with the same two letters as June, and the editor might not notice. But July is fading fast, so it might be...well, it won't be January. I hope.
Maybe I should have told her from Day One that I am a cockeyed optimist.
I Love a Schedule...And I Don't
I'm just a tad compulsive when it comes to getting things done. I admit to lists everywhere and, yes, I'll admit to putting things on my lists that I've already done, just for the satisfaction of crossing them off.
I write on a schedule, Monday-Saturday, usually from 6:30 a.m. until something else demands my time, up to lunch. What I write on those mornings changes. On Mondays I do business-related stuff, but the rest of the week I work on the current novel. At odd times I catch up on non-fiction writing stuff, like a newsletter I do for a local group and blog posts for guesting on other bloggers' sites.
Afternoons are spent on the rest of life, although I've been known to continue through the day when a book is coming together. Evenings are my time to edit. While I can seldom compose at that time of day, I can reread and correct structural and grammatical mistakes.
I also have a schedule for the rest of life, which my kids make gentle fun of from time to time. I like to do all the household chores on Monday: laundry, cleaning, and other maintenance work. The rest of the week I choose my chores according to my mood and the weather. Gardening, lawn work, and maintaining outbuildings are summer work, and closet-cleaning and clerical upkeep are for days when outside isn't inviting. I have (yet another) list from which I choose what sounds doable to me on a given day.
Do I sound like an overly organized person? Maybe, but I doubt that I am. If someone says, "Let's do lunch" or "Let's drive to ______ today," I'm more than willing to toss the schedule aside. Yes, there are all those lists, but that's the purpose of writing it down: I can forget it today and pick it up again sometime in the future.
I write on a schedule, Monday-Saturday, usually from 6:30 a.m. until something else demands my time, up to lunch. What I write on those mornings changes. On Mondays I do business-related stuff, but the rest of the week I work on the current novel. At odd times I catch up on non-fiction writing stuff, like a newsletter I do for a local group and blog posts for guesting on other bloggers' sites.
Afternoons are spent on the rest of life, although I've been known to continue through the day when a book is coming together. Evenings are my time to edit. While I can seldom compose at that time of day, I can reread and correct structural and grammatical mistakes.
I also have a schedule for the rest of life, which my kids make gentle fun of from time to time. I like to do all the household chores on Monday: laundry, cleaning, and other maintenance work. The rest of the week I choose my chores according to my mood and the weather. Gardening, lawn work, and maintaining outbuildings are summer work, and closet-cleaning and clerical upkeep are for days when outside isn't inviting. I have (yet another) list from which I choose what sounds doable to me on a given day.
Do I sound like an overly organized person? Maybe, but I doubt that I am. If someone says, "Let's do lunch" or "Let's drive to ______ today," I'm more than willing to toss the schedule aside. Yes, there are all those lists, but that's the purpose of writing it down: I can forget it today and pick it up again sometime in the future.
What Do YOU Do When the Net Is Down?
Those who know me are probably pacing the floor right now, worried that I've fallen and I can't get up. I always post on Mondays early in the morning, usually by 7:00. So where was this post at 8:00, or 9:00?
It was waiting for the Internet to decide I'm worthy.
When the Net goes down (and we have no idea why it's been naughty these last few days), my life goes off the track. I meant to blog ("Cannot connect to the Internet"), then I planned to send cards for the loot bags at Bloody Words next month (the address is in my email, see above). I have several post to write for my upcoming blog tour. (The list of what each host wants is--you guessed it--in my email.)
So what did I do from 7:00 a.m. until now?
I cleaned my bedroom, not just the usual light dusting and tidying up, but a thorough cleaning that went right down to washing the curtains, windows, baseboards, and knick-knacks.
Now the Net is back (hooray!). My room is clean. My sinuses are tickling from all that dust I stirred up, but I guess it's worth it to have one room in the house absolutely spotless.
Maybe I should start scheduling Internet outages at regular intervals.
It was waiting for the Internet to decide I'm worthy.
When the Net goes down (and we have no idea why it's been naughty these last few days), my life goes off the track. I meant to blog ("Cannot connect to the Internet"), then I planned to send cards for the loot bags at Bloody Words next month (the address is in my email, see above). I have several post to write for my upcoming blog tour. (The list of what each host wants is--you guessed it--in my email.)
So what did I do from 7:00 a.m. until now?
I cleaned my bedroom, not just the usual light dusting and tidying up, but a thorough cleaning that went right down to washing the curtains, windows, baseboards, and knick-knacks.
Now the Net is back (hooray!). My room is clean. My sinuses are tickling from all that dust I stirred up, but I guess it's worth it to have one room in the house absolutely spotless.
Maybe I should start scheduling Internet outages at regular intervals.
