Not Talking to Writers

What are you here for, social hour? Shut up. Get offline. Do not go into the kitchen thinking you might get another cup of coffee…and maybe run into someone so that you don’t have to keep writing. You think this book is going to just write itself?

No more drinking wine until midnight. No more banter or conversations about craft. From here on out it’s just going to be writing. It’s me, and my ass in the chair, and the computer glaring at me making sure I get my daily portion done.

It’s a new year (literally, for some of us), a new leaf, a new page, a new chapter. This is the first disorganized but actually chapter-ish chapter (rather than an essay-written-by-a-poet chapter) of the rest of your life. Or book. Or whatever the hell it is I’m doing.

Now get the fuck off the Internet and write.

(That goes double for you, Cougar.)

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12 responses to “Not Talking to Writers

  1. Get to work Indy Franklin Clause! (I can’t use my mom voice without a middle name to throw in there. Our cat Porkchop was renamed Porkchop Franklin for this very reason.) If I have to say it again, I’m going to take away your toys, young lady…

      • Well, to be sure, Hiro Nakamura Master of Time and Space is a character, so Hollywood did that for us. The Poodlehead part, though, was all us. 🙂

        My cat is Jacqueline Chan Onassis [my rather typically ethnic last name], or Jackie Chan, Ms. Chan, or Kitty, most usually Kitty. She’s a pretty cross-cultural kitty, all things considered.

  2. Indy Franklin Clause? Hunh?

    Why you picking on me? I AM working hard! I NEVER procrastinate. That’s YOU you’re thinking about.

    But, I might go mountain biking now. Helps my concentration. Really!

  3. Okay, purely for your entertainment …. I’ve been playing a WWF game with someone I THOUGHT was you. Here’s our recent text message exchange:

    “Did you escape your house? Are you enjoying the quiet?”
    “Why would I need to escape?”
    “Are you there yet?”
    “Where’s there?”
    “The writing retreat.”
    “You must have the wrong person.”
    “Oops.”

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