Writer Meet Chair

Writing is simple: writer meets chair. You have to just sit down and write. Carve out your time and just do it.

To which I reply; HA!

If it were truly that easy I'd have more than one book up on Amazon. Those five or ten books that I've actually finished would have more than one draft. I wouldn't be stressing over the cube thing interview I have this afternoon.

So yesterday I locked myself in my newly finished writer's cave, determined not to leave for the whole day. Outcome? I went from page 100 to 195 of my rewrite for No Apologies.

I'm keeping a log book next to my computer of date/time/page numbers of work done. When I got up this morning and looked at my book it felt good. I actually accomplished something yesterday. How the hell did that happen?

It wasn't easy. At times it was hard to keep my butt in the chair. The ghosts of Facebook and Twitter called. My email begged to be opened. The house called out to be cleaned. These were real creatures reaching into my cave and trying to pry me out of my chair. It almost felt like I was beating them off with that Louie-ville slugger I keep next to my night stand.

This morning I'm here again in my writing cave. Space heater cooking, trying to out work the cold February wind that's leaking through my windows, coffee at my side and dogs at my feet. The old calico cat is curled up on the towel I folded on the edge of my desk. I think she wants me to write. She looks so content as I hit the keys.
That's a picture of Hemmingway's desk down in Key West. When we went I took pictures of every room in his house. Tomorrow we'll visit his bathroom. ;)
See you tomorrow.....