End of February

I gotta come up with some better blog post titles, but for fuck’s sake have mercy. I turned in my beer book yesterday. After that I walked my dog, and then went out and bought one of my very favorite slightly expensive, but not embarrassingly so bottles of bourbon. No beer was drunk last night.

This morning I looked at the ten index cards that contain notes for each chapter of The Fucker Remastered. My plan is immerse myself in my own private nanowrimo (thanks, Downith, for not suing me for plagiarism. Yet.) There are some rules.

No writing on the weekends unless I feel moved to.

No reason to be formal. Get the ideas down on the page, write notes to myself. Make dumb jokes I can delete later. Or not.

Don’t use Scrivener! Although I love it as a program, I am tired of looking at it. Plain old Word. 2000ish words per day or so. Before you become too impressed, remember that between one-thirds and two-thirds of the manuscript is written already. Cut and paste is easy and fun.

Print out every day. Carry to Second Job to edit, add notes, doodle, or use to start one-match fires (Thanks, Paul, for not suing me for plagiarism. Yet.)

Be disciplined, but don’t kill myself over this. Work hard, but do not despair.

Try to be a nicer person to my spouse. Keep walking my dogs as it is good for all of us. Do dishes every once in a while.

What are your rules?


8 responses to “End of February

  1. RULE#1: Keep my wallet impeccably organised with cards/money/receipts where I can find them, so I don’t have to waste time that I could be writing looking for stuff that I need. Every day. Except that I’ve lost my wallet.

    RULE#2: No rules. They don’t work. See above.

    PS; for now….

  2. Yeah, not much on rules. General goals. Self-loathing chiding. Motivation through regret. Occasional opportunities taken. That’s about how it works for me.

    Also, the title was your idea, so I don’t think it would be plagiarism if you used it.

  3. I’m feeling like I need to leave the country for a few weeks. I can’t do it, but I want do, and I’m craving it. Because when you go to “other places” with “other people” you get fucking perspective that you just can’t get here when you’re stuck at home and mired in (drowning in) U.S. news media. DEEP. BREATH.

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