How I Write
Today is snowy here in the Northeast. It’s a good day to sit in front of the bay window, watch the snow, and write. The girls sleep on a rug in front of the fireplace. I have my mug of hazelnut coffee and Pacific Rim on DVD. I’m all set.
But first, I need to throw in a load of laundry, make the bed, clean the bathroom, and empty the dishwasher. Whew. Now I can sit and write. Restart Pacific Rim.
The phone rings. First it is my vet, then my doctor, then I talk to a friend. An hour gone. Heat up the coffee. Restart Pacific Rim.
The girls want to go play in the snow and the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer. I think I’ll have a bite of lunch. Yum. A fresh cup of coffee. Restart Pacific Rim.
A few hours later I have a rough draft of a blog post and typed in the dialog of my next scene. I’ve scribbled notes about Act 3 and played with my plotting board. I’ve told myself I only have 20,000 more words to write. I am not amused.
I start the second round on the scene; I start to add details. Oh yeah, restart Pacific Rim.
But first, I need to throw in a load of laundry, make the bed, clean the bathroom, and empty the dishwasher. Whew. Now I can sit and write. Restart Pacific Rim.
The phone rings. First it is my vet, then my doctor, then I talk to a friend. An hour gone. Heat up the coffee. Restart Pacific Rim.
The girls want to go play in the snow and the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer. I think I’ll have a bite of lunch. Yum. A fresh cup of coffee. Restart Pacific Rim.
A few hours later I have a rough draft of a blog post and typed in the dialog of my next scene. I’ve scribbled notes about Act 3 and played with my plotting board. I’ve told myself I only have 20,000 more words to write. I am not amused.
I start the second round on the scene; I start to add details. Oh yeah, restart Pacific Rim.
