This is that time.
With every friend and colleague who publishes a book, I become more and more motivated to actually start writing mine on paper (or rather typing mine on computer) and stop merely musing about it in my head.
I recently read a friend‘s manuscript and it wasn’t good. It was freaking brilliant. I couldn’t put it down. Sure it needed some polishing and shaping, but she wrote a novel. And she did it while working part-time, mothering three children, wifing a husband, cleaning a house, caring for two dogs, a cat, and I lost count of how many chickens. She has me beat. I have no excuses.
Here’s David Sedaris’ advice for aspiring writers: “Write every day and read everything you can get your hands on. Write every day … with a pen that’s shaped like a candy cane.”
I don’t have the candy cane-shaped pen, but I’m going to start the whole every day thing. It might not always be on the blog. I’m also going to keep a journal handy — Lord knows I have enough half-filled ones lying around.
I have my main character. I know her pretty well, and I know what she’s been up to. I just need to figure out how to introduce her to you. She’s pretty sure you’ll hate her, but she doesn’t give a shit. (She actually does give a shit, but she pretends she doesn’t.)
As I write this, I’m in a cafe listening to three middle-aged women in the booth across from me talking about their writing and their works-in-progress, and I just know it’s time for mine to be in progress. The woman on the left says she doesn’t care if hers becomes an NYT Bestseller. She’s a big fat liar. I want mine to be a success. And I want it to happen while I’m young enough to go on a book tour without an oxygen tank in tow. A nitrous tank would be cool though.