Hello, my name is Anna and I am a procrastinator.
Not just any procrastinator mind you, but an extraordinary one. The super hero of procrastinators. When they update the dictionary, they shall put my picture on the page because...yeah. You get the idea. I am the Dory of the writing world...distracted by one shiny object after another.
I've procrastinated writing this blog for two weeks now, ignoring the big red circle around the date on my calendar because honestly, I could not think about what to write. This time of year, as my six months of work deluge finally dies back and I can refocus on writing (yay!), I am, for all intents and purposes brain dead. Apparently I'm also filled with the desire to write cliche after cliche today, but it's been that kind of week.
Maybe that's part of it. Writing is no longer a hobby for me--I've signed a contract (or two). It's now an obligation. It's a job. That book I spent oh, years perfecting so it would sell? It sold. Now I get to write the second in the series by September (while trying not to think about the third that's due in January). And I think, honestly, it's got me scared. What's that (cliche) saying...be careful what you wish for? I got it--in spades and now I've got to deal. So what do I do?
Ooooh, research art forgery in every way possible. Shop for reference book. How about rewriting the opening to that book that's due in September oh, about 5 times until it feels "right". How about...sucking it up and writing the blessed book?
Yeah, that sounds good (and something my critique partners would say, in fact I bet they're saying it right now). Here's where I remind myself how lucky I am. That dream I had about being a writer? About publishing my books? About getting my stories out there for someone other than my family and friends to read? It came true!
I can put my butt in that chair and write--I've done it before, it's what got me here. For years I worried that writing would stop being fun once it became "work", but you know, it's always been work. Now it's work that pays and that, when all is said and done, is IT. Someone is paying me to tell my stories.
No more procrastinting for me. Time to write! Right? I mean...oh, look! Finding Nemo's on!
Hands up! What do you procrastinate about (or tell me I'm all alone in this)? And what's your favorite coping mechanism when the words just aren't there?