I kick back in a recliner in my writing office and scroll through Facebook to see all the awesome autumn pictures. I am really missing the trees on my commute; friends have been posting pictures of their trees. Gorgeous! Ours turn yellow, and not even that pretty yellow like the birches. More like a tired yellow. Besides, with all the other ugly news everywhere, I find solace in landscape photos.
“What are you doing, love?” My Muse looms over me, hands on hips. “We agreed, no Facebook during writing time.” He rolls up the sleeves of his red and black flannel shirt, a white T-shirt underneath. His worn-well jeans carry the outdoor rogue image down to his hiking boots. He even has some scruff.
Whoa. There’s more than one reason autumn is my favorite season. Flannel and denim are made for the woods in the fall. I should probably not page through the men’s section of the next LL Bean catalog I get. Definitely getting warm in here. “Little distracting there, aren’t you?”
“Facebook is distracting. Hell, the entire internet is distracting for you. Turn it off.”
I close Facebook, the time-suck of all time-sucks, which leaves me plenty of time to enjoy the local scenery instead of writing. Focus. “You need to go rake some leaves or something. Chop some wood.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Seriously, love? I am not leaving you unsupervised. You have a revision to work on, and an empty nest for the whole weekend.”
Which reminds me. I was walking down the driveway the other day and a story light bulb went off in my head. Actually, more like a flash bulb (not to be confused with a flash mob). “What’s with the brainstorm the other day? Why didn’t you suggest that two months ago? I could have added that during my first round of revision.”
“You weren’t ready for it two months ago.” He heads to my wall-sized white board and picks up a marker. “You have three weeks to work this revision, love. Then NaNo.” He makes a list, which I can’t read because he’s in the way. Yep, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
“That’s the plan.”
He turns, narrows his eyes. “Here’s a thought. Try sticking to the plan this time.”
“What makes you think I won’t stick to the plan? I always stick to my NaNo plan.”
“I’m not talking about NaNo. You have some pretty optimistic plans for the rest of the year after NaNo.”
“I’ll be working from home until who knows when. It’s not like I have to drive to work and back, and hello, winter in Minne-snow-ta.”
“Uh huh.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “How’s that been working for you?”
“Hey, all I need to do is tweak the timeline in that book.” And up the threat to the MC, and write a few more vignettes, and run through another round of revision. It’s my police procedural, which I thought was finished, until I reread it after a year. Uff-da.
“You have a deadline for Book 2.”
Um, sort of. Actually, yeah. Remember that writing certificate I’m working on? My writing teacher suggested the end of March for a deadline. Doable. Definitely doable. Except–
“You are going to have to choose between Book 2 and the procedural, love.”
“I know, I know.” I suggested to my agent that I would be ready to submit the procedural by the end of the year. I think I forgot NaNo in that timeline. “Book 2.”
He lines something out on the board and adds to the list before he returns the marker to the little shelf. “Good. Let’s get to work.”
And bonus: my son just texted me and said he’s thinking about coming home this weekend with the kitties. Yay! I mean, I love seeing my son, and the kitties are a nice bonus.
Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I want to see the kitties 😀 😀
Get out there and enjoy the colors before everything turns that boring shade of brown that lasts until spring. And keep writing!