Writer: 3 Real Life: way more than 3
I’m not a sports person per se, though I do enjoy a good Vikings game (and you’re right, it’s been quite a while since then 😉 ), but now’s the time of year when the summer sports are heading into playoff territory, and the fall sports are trying to get an idea of how this year’s season will go. So, it seemed oddly appropriate to have some sort of a tie-in (Actually, I was trying to come up with a clever title.).
School started this week, so it’s back to the routine of school, sports, homework, and the morass of “sign this, pay that, I need this” duties that go with it. Real Life gets points. The garden is winding down (point for me!), but all those tomatoes still need to be canned (points for RL), the potatoes need to be dug out and onions pulled (points for RL), and the green beans and peppers are still growing (points for RL). Oh, and don’t forget those household chores. I think I’ve put them off long enough. I went to pet our fuzzy cat, only to discover it was a monster dust bunny. Seems it’s about time to do some cleaning (lots of points for RL).
On the bright side, I did get some writing things done the past couple months, including my super-awesome reunion retreat with my even super-awesomer (yep, made that one up–point for me!) writing sisters, and my foray into Pitch Wars (point for me!). Even though I didn’t get a mentor, I did get very encouraging emails from a couple of the mentors I subbed to. Revising the outline for my WIP–eh, not so much. I’m in the “I kinda know how I want to change things, but I’m not sure I know how to get there” stage.
I stifle an epic eye roll before I turn around. My Muse is sitting on the low bookcase and shaking his head. Today he’s wearing a rugby jersey for some Adelaide (South Australia) team–looks like the Crows–and his well-worn jeans. “How many different ways can you say ‘procrastination’, love? You ought to get points for that.”
“How was your day at the Fair?” Off-topic. Point for me!
“Great. Did you know there’s a place they actually sprinkle bacon on caramel apples?” He leans forward, hands braced on the bookcase’s edge. “Summer’s over. No more goofing off.”
“I haven’t been goofing off like some people I know.” I glare at him, but something gets lost in the translation, because he doesn’t seem to be affected by it. In fact, he chuckles. Damn it. “Hey, you’ve been fishing, to the State Fair, partying with my writing sisters’ muses, and hell, you’ve been putting some time into that portable hammock of yours. I’ve been managing a 75′ x 30′ garden all summer, along with a full-time job, full-time kids, and –”
“Excuses.” He slides off his perch. “That’s all I’m hearing. You need an agenda.” He pulls a white board from–did he borrow that carpet bag from Mary Poppins? He reaches into the bag again, pulls out an easel, and sets it up with the white board facing my writing chair. One more dive into the bag, and he retrieves a fold-away reclining chair he sets up beside the easel.
“Um, what the hell?” I ask, even though I’m afraid I know the answer already.
The dry-erase marker he’s using squeaks against the white board. “This is your agenda. I even included tomorrow’s lunch with your high-school BFF.” Another minute, and he snaps the cover back onto the marker and turns. “See this?” He points to tomorrow’s list. “No writing. You get your shit together–pick garden stuff, bake, clean, organize. Hell,” he turns and adds a line, “mow the effing lawn. Got it?”
His face is kinda red, and those lines on his forehead look like Mr. Potato Head’s angry eyebrows if they were stretched out. I nod.
He pokes at the next day on the agenda. “This day, you write. You get that outline done.” He stabs at the following day. “Take this day off work. The kids are in school, so you write in the morning, send queries around lunchtime, then write until the kids get home.” He crosses his arms on that fine broad chest of his, then snaps his fingers. “Hey, look at me.”
I raise my eyes to his. Mistake. That cold stare sends an icy spike down my spine. I shiver. “I got it. Get my shit together.”
Sheesh. Note to self: Ask Mae Clair if she can send Mr. E by to take my Muse on a pub crawl.
In other news, big shout-out to one of my writing sisters, who just signed the contract for her debut novel–Congrats, Blair!
Also, pop on over to the Meet Your Main Character website and check out our new postings for September. Our top 5 list this month is about travel. Stop by and say hi!