Happy to have gotten four ‘likes’ on my PitMad Tweet. Sent required query, synopsis and first 10 pages to one of the agents, researching the others.
Then, like so many writers, my days will be filled with worry and self-doubt. Ah, the writing life! Whats not to love?
My ever-so-smart CP set up a writing day at a local coffee house. Hubby doesn’t understand how I need to write away from home. The small distractions – a load of laundry, a knock at the door, they all add up.
Happily adding several thou to my ms in progress.
I’m one of those people who are burdened with SAD – seasonal affective disorder. In the winter I use a special lamp which provides strong light during gloomy, short days.
If the day is overcast and cool, I don’t feel creative, don’t feel like writing.
If the day is sunny and warm, I don’t want to write because I want to be outside.
Sparse wifi for January and February. The reasons are not important, but the results are frustrating.
At least I can still work on my ms, Elegy for the Living which is coming along nicely.
And, my niece suggested a site where folks VOLUNTARILY workshop your work in progress. What a gift!
So, with bad wifi comes good things. Trying to stay pos
Papa Hemingway was well-known for his excesses – booze, women, danger. And yet, he wrote novels that the public deems magnificent. I find his style is sometimes terse and somewhat self-indulgent. But he is famous and I am not so that speaks for itself.
At any rate, I tried writing under the muse of alcohol and I must say, it was crap.
Worked for him, doesn’t work for me. Too bad. If I’m drinking I can’t write. If I’m writing I can’t drink.
Heading south in our tiny car – yes, on Christmas day. We discovered that there are NO restaurants open today – not even the chain restaurants.
Gas station food had to suffice for lunch and we did find a sushi place open just a block from our hotel. The food was great and inexpensive but did not have a liquor license. Reminded me of A Christmas Story – fa ra ra ra ra ra, ra ra ra.
Hopefully some of this adventure will become fodder for a story.
Driving tiny car to southern destination – cannot write for at least four days. I shall be sad. I shall be frustrated. I shall get over it.