Monday, August 25, 2014

Sleepus interruptus - when deadlines attack

If I didn't have a day job, this would be me right now.

There's nothing like waking up at two in the morning in a state of pure panic, convinced that you have somehow brought yourself to the brink of ruination if you don't fix something right this second. I flew out of bed in a tizzy, heart pounding, cat giving me a disgusted look at waking her up (and she's the nocturnal one.) I had actually taken a few staggering steps towards the door before it occurred to me that I had no idea why I was awake, what I was supposed to be fixing, or how I was supposed to be fixing it. 

It took a few more minutes of muddled thinking before I could, with any confidence, tell myself to stop panicking and get my ass back to bed. I did manage to drift off again, but the rest of the night was spent in a state of perpetual fretting, tossing and turning as fragments of thoughts and worries poured through my weary head. 

As you might imagine, morning came far too quickly for my liking. Adding insult to injury, it's a Monday morning, and that means my 9-5 job will be a blend of chaos and coffee without any writing time. As for what's sending my subconscious into a tailspin? I'm in the home stretch of Wilde Ink, so I have two different reason for my state of panic. 

1) Word count. I have 10k words left until I hit my max word count for this series, and I still have a lot of story left to tell. Making matters worse, my characters insisted on having sex instead of moving the plot forward as I had intended, and it was too hot to cut, so now I've got fewer words to work with before I type  "the end." Dratted, stubborn characters, thinking for themselves.

2) Word count. Yes, I said that already, but this is a different issue. (really!) I want this book completed and in to my publisher by the end of the month. That's...*looks at a calendar and screams in silent panic*  not many days from now. Seven, in fact. I have less than seven days to get those last ten thousand words written, reviewed, rewritten, reviewed again and ready to go...along with a synopsis.

I have the strange feeling that sleep and I are not going to be seeing a lot of each other until after this book is submitted. Which is pretty much what happens at the end of every book I write, along with a day of mourning when I have to say goodbye to the characters that have been part of my life for the weeks and months it took to write their story.

I'll miss them when the time comes. But right now, what I'm really missing is my pillow. 

My awesome parents bought me a Keruig coffee maker for my birthday a little while ago. It might be the one thing that gets me through the next few days. 

I love being a writer. I love the craziness, the strange hours and the voices that whisper in my head. I wouldn't give it up for anything, not even another hour of sleep.




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