The HEA Cafe

We all have our own process for writing.  We all have a system of what works and what doesn’t.

And we also all have our own excuses for why we’re NOT writing.

There’s too much noise.
There’s not enough noise.

Too much coffee (it could happen!)
Not enough coffee (it better not happen!)

Too much clutter.
Not enough clutter.

I confess, right now, that the clutter thing is my Achilles heel.  It’s bad enough when the clutter is tangible, when I can see it and feel boxed in by it.  At least I can put on my blinders and do my best to ignore it.  It’s a million times worse when the clutter is inside my head.  Worry about the kids, the DH, the parents, the deadlines, the Christmas chaos, the weight gain, etc etc, is enough to send me into a downward spiral that gets harder and harder to stop with each new spin.

How stupid is that?

We all know the answer is simple:

#1 - put butt in chair
#2 - write

It couldn’t get any simpler.  The problem is that by doing those two simple things, it means I have to put myself and my writing in front of everything - and everyone - else.  A good wife/mother/sister/friend doesn’t do that, does she?

Again, I ask you - how stupid is that?

Is anyone going to die from it if the kids or the DH have to eat Kraft Dinner or Cheerios for supper (again)?  Is the world going to stop turning if the Christmas decorations aren’t up or down by a specific date?  Will life as we know it come to a screeching halt if your mother/MIL points out the layer of dust in your living room?

Oh, puh-lease.  Who gives a rip? 

Put Dominos on speed dial

Leave the tree where it is - it’s pretty, it’s green (maybe brown by now), and it will remind the family that the spirit of Christmas really should be a year-round thing

And leave the Pledge/Tide/vacuum in a conspicuous location for those times when someone comments on the state of your house.  Simply point them in the direction of the cleaning supplies and smile.

You’re a writer, and sometimes you get to - you have to - make that a priority.  Anyone can sort the darks from the delicates; anyone can load/unload the dishwasher; and anyone can run a vacuum.

But no one – NO ONE – can write your book for you.  Only you can do that – and if anyone has a problem with that, remember this: it’s their problem, not yours. 

So stop reading this post and go write.  Now.  Go!  And don’t let me catch you with a dishcloth in your hand or I’ll send out the screaming monkeys.