By J.C. Lynne
Yeah, yeah, you just heard from me last week. Believe me, I'm not too thrilled about this either. I am typically a planner. A long range planner. I am also a doer. When conversations turn to activities, gatherings, or travel I get moving. Just ask my friends. I'm a logistics beast.
Taking on the scheduling for The Writing Bug was cake and pie. I made calendars. I made spreadsheets. I color coded each blogger's date with a space for their blog topic. If I'm really on my game I send out gentle reminders. All writers are masters of procrastination. We are experts in the hem and haw two-step. It doesn't matter what level of experience. It doesn't matter published or not published. Writers love to dither.
|The Oatmeal Summed It up Perfectly.|
Come Wednesday mornings I'm lucky to remember what day it is. No lie, my morning mantras go something like this, "It's Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday." I then run through what is happening on the particular Wednesday in question. Of course, the mantra rotates through the days of the week. I heard you folks in the peanut gallery.
To be fair, blog posts are due three days ahead of posting. It gives me a chance to check grammar, links, photos, etc.... Granted, most of those thoughts are about my own posts.
Most Wednesdays, I claw out of bed at five a.m., feed the dogs, feed the cats, make a double espresso, and stumble to the computer before going to teach yoga at six. It's the moment every friggin' Wednesday I realize it's Wednesday and frantically check whose post is due.
Is it in blogger? Has it been edited? More photos. Are the photos cited? Where are the links? Is the SEO effective? Cripes, I have to find a related link. Coffee. Not enough coffee.
|It's A Little Early for Wine, But Check Back at Seven o'clock!|
Today is Wednesday. If you didn't know it, welcome. We're glad you joined us. I woke up deep in an existential crisis.
- How have we, as human beings, arrived at this moment?
- Are any of my letters, phone calls, rational rejoinders to this political and social mess doing anything?
- Tis the season, but folks are cranky and driving crazy and being rude to clerks.
- What is my purpose? Does anything I do really matter?
- Do I have any meaning besides making the Beard's coffee and letting dogs in and out of the house?
- Is being a writer enough?
- Is teaching yoga and fitness classes really significant?
I moped my coffee to my office, fired up my computer and F*&^ if it isn't Wednesday! Who is scheduled?!
Seriously, who is scheduled?!
I considered passing the buck. Could I wrangle instant motivation from any of the other writers? Meh, suck it up, buttercup. Yes, this is one of the few instances that phrase is actually appropriate. I already burned the missing post topic. What could I bloody write about last minute?
Wait, am I not a writer? Can I equivocate as well as the next writer? Oh man, can I. It fits right in with my morbidly dark melancholia. Whoo hoo! It's a win! Crank up the holiday music. Turn on the Yule tree lights. I may be feeling Grinch-like, but damn I can write about not a whole lot! BAM!
If things sneak up on you, take my advice. Move on it, even if you're tap dancing in a fit of misdirection. I won't go so far as to say you'll solve all of your problems, but you might crank out a chapter, a conference proposal, or even a blog post. Heck, I may dust today. Nah, who am I kidding? This tap dance will only get me so far.
The good news is I've pushed my existential crisis to the back shelf for a bit. I'm a writer. It's enough.