As I was scrambling to finish my November 2014 release, the first in a new contemporary romance series, so I could send it to my editor, a writer friend forwarded a link to a blog post by Kristen Lamb called You Know You’re a Writer When …
The whole post is good, funny when exaggerated, a little painful because it’s scary-close to accurate, but this one particularly hit me between the eyes:
You Know You’re a Writer …
When it comes to revisions, you actually contemplate hanging one of those cheap pine tree air fresheners around your neck because bathing or showering or eating or changing clothes will interrupt your mojo.
I’m going to confess something horrible. I resent the time it takes to shower and fuss with my hair when I’m in those last stages of writing a book and when doing revisions. I mean, that is 20 to 30 minutes of fussing that I will never get back. Don’t worry. I do shower and wash my hair. I’ve never actually had to hang a pine tree air freshener around my neck. But I resent the time it takes all the same when in that final crush of writing and/or revising. It does feel dangerous to my mojo.
The above quote from Lamb’s post reminds me of an article I read in Writer’s Digest about 30 years ago. The author was telling about a conference for romance writers where many of the writers’ husbands attended an evening function. A reporter asked the husband of the author of this article what it was like to be married to a romance writer. Was it always sexy and romantic?
“The husband replied, “Have you ever smelled a romance writer on deadline?”
Oh, my! That line is as vivid and funny and scary to me now as when I first read it. I can see where I sat in the living room at that very moment. And it probably has helped me make sure that I shower when on deadline, even when I resent the time it takes. LOL!!!
I am now in the preliminary stages of the next book in this series (May 2015). I’m getting to know my characters and sketch out some plot ideas and generally get my head into a new story. No resentment of beauty-rituals now. I’ve even remembered to put on makeup so that I don’t frighten the FedEx guy when he comes to my door. Aren’t you proud of me?
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