Note #6 – So You Want to Write a Book…

I absolutely think you should.

And I’m going to tell you how to do it.  Or at least how I do it.

First, set yourself up at your laptop, in your writing space.  Bring a cappuccino.

Spend ten minutes wandering around the house, looking for your glasses.  Find them beside your laptop.

Write a few catchy sentences.

Remember you left a load of laundry in the washer. Go down to the laundry room and sniff the laundry to see how long ago you left it.  Wash it again.

Return to your desk and read what you just wrote.  Add a few more sentences.

Get up and go downstairs to fetch ground beef out of the freezer for tonight’s dinner.  Come all the way back upstairs with the load of laundry. Realize you forgot the ground beef. Go back and get it.

Write a sentence that contains a joke that’s not really funny.  Rewrite it until it’s hilarious, but slightly offensive. Wonder who it might offend. Take it out.  Put it back in.

Stare out the window.  Wonder if the lawn mower has another year left in it.  Quickly google sales for lawnmowers, somehow end up buying three books on Amazon, none of which have anything to do with mowing the lawn.

Re-read the 136 words you’ve written so far.  Laugh out loud at the joke, decide to keep it.

Ask the dog if he needs to pee.  Take him out to pee.  While giving him a treat after he pees, check the calendar to see when he needs to be given his flea and tick medicine. Realize that there is no flea and tick medicine left. Phone the vet clinic and order more flea and tick medicine. Go back to your desk.

Write a really great passage where your characters seem very witty and urbane.  Wonder idly if you sounded witty and urbane while ordering the flea and tick medicine.

Go downstairs and make another cappuccino.  While the milk is frothing, stare out the kitchen window and reflect on the fact that your protagonist never seems to do get any work done. Suddenly think of a brilliant connection to a Buddhist theme, scurry back upstairs to the laptop.

Hammer out two fantastic paragraphs.  Reach for your cappuccino to celebrate, realize that you didn’t finish making it.

Go back downstairs, make another cappuccino, take it back to your desk.

Repeat some version of these steps until you have 500-600 words.

Do it again tomorrow.

P.

P.S.  There’s no life like it.