Happy Tuesday!
Bill Engleson (@billmelaterplea) flew the highest this week and takes his twenty-second win!
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Up To My Eyeballs
“There’s too much to do,” I mostly say to myself, but she overhears.
“WHAT?” she asks from the adjoining room.
“Huh?” I reply, pretending I am unaware that she heard me.
“Goofball, you said there’s too much to do.”
“So you did hear me?”
“You’re pretty loud. What’s wrong?”
“WRITING! That’s what’s wrong. I’ve got too much on the go.”
“Make a list,” she says.
Right, I think. That’s what she always says. She is a fanatical maker of lists. I hate lists. Where do you even start with making a list? And the time! List-making takes time. And what do you have at the end? Lost time. And a list that you hate. A list that doesn’t tell you anything you didn’t know already.
“Right.”
“Fine. Stew in your own hack-writer juices. I’ve got better things to do than listen to you whine.”
I can feel my head slowly creating a list. Not on paper. In my head. Lists are like a virus. A pandemic of chores, one after the other, fighting to get to the top. I’ve got half a dozen writing projects on the go. I like having half a dozen on the go. When I freeze up on one, I can jump to another.
Does this process work well?
I don’t know.
The thing is, most of them don’t need to get done. When I say that I mean, I am an amateur writer. I write for fun. Lists are not fun.
“Do you want some coffee?” I ask her.
“Do you have time for that?” she asks…snarkily.
“It’s at the top of my list,” I reply.
FictionTrials 