CAUTION: PROCRASTINATION IN PROGRESS

So, I have less than five nights of writing before the current draft of my book is complete.

Done.

Finished.

The End.

No more.

That's good, right?

Of course it's good.

It's great.

Why wouldn't it be good?

It's really great.

So freaking great.

...SO freaking out...

Why though? It's just a book.

It's just my book.

It's just my first future-best-selling book.

And why not? Why the heck shouldn't I finish it tonight?

Why not just go and start the last chapter now?

I will be six pages closer in thirty minutes, if that.

But, no. Instead of sprinting for that seventeen-page finish line, I am here. Blogging.

Why? Because I don't know if I can handle being done.

If it's done, that means I print it.

If I print it that means I revise it.

If I revise it that means it's ready for publishers. For literary agents. For jacket design, blurbs, Kirkus reviews...and the closer it gets, the more real this is. So I'm going to lay low for a few hours. At least eight of them, I think. Or maybe another night. Just one night off from writing should do it. Or maybe I won't finish it. I don't even want to. I don't even care.

God, it's just like Senioritis. The relief. The giddiness. The chronic procrastination.

Oh my God, I wrote a novel.

Not that this is my first...but this is my first of publishable quality.

Oh my gawd, I want to ralph...

...And stand on top of the world and scream in victory!

Is this what it's like letting your first born go off to college? Kind of 'Freaking-Awesome with a side order of Holy-Shit'?

All I have to do is log off, grab my dark chocolate and type.

It will take me all of an half-an-hour before I'm a quarter of the way through the last chapter.

But what if it's not good enough?

What if it's drivel?

What if it's weak and full of plot holes that a six-year-old could pick out?

What if a monkey could have written it?

What if it's rejected?

What if it flops?

What if it doesn't?
What if it wins the Tassy Walden Award...again?

What if they publish it?

What if that stupid monkey tries to steal MY idea?

What if they want me to sign their copies?

What if another agent asks to see it before anyone else?

What if it wins the Newbery?







Excuse me, everyone.

I have a book to finish.

To Do List for Sunday

1. Finish unpacking

2. Fold laundry!!!

3. Rescue a Great-Dane named Henry

4. Finish writing chapter 49

5. Revise & polish final draft

6. Publish book

7. Return from best-selling book tour

8. Write best-selling sequel

9. Put away laundry!!!

10. Purchase 17 acres of Berkshire property & retire with Henry & raise Clydesdale horses

"The time has come," the Walrus said...

...To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
(from The Walrus and The Carpenter by Lewis Carroll, 1872)

Since my last --and in retrospect tell-tale-- blog entry, there have been some changes in The Davis Girl's world.

Within the space of a fortnight this Davis Girl has become single, enrolled in graduate school, obtained the sole occupancy of a 3,765,245,828,136 sq ft apartment, approached gourmet omelet maker status, and most recently roommate to a young woman who is best described as the love child of Johnny Quest and an insomniac pixie with unlimited access to the Neverland Starbucks storeroom.

I'd ask my new roommate to say a few words about the joys of having The Davis Girl as a roommate but I can't find her. From the sounds of it, she's either in the living room or on her jet to California, but I'm sure she sends her best.

As for my living area, nearly all of my books are unpacked and I finally found my inky pens. Plus, if you squint, the boxes and totes lining the dining room look just like the upholstered benches from Ikea!

Yes, it's chaos. But it's all mine. And if I already had my pure-bred Great Dane named Henry DuBuckminster, he and his huge drooly, shedding beautifulness would be curled up on the 3/4 of the couch next to me if I gosh darn well please!

Oh, Henry.

It's quiet here, but compared to a month ago, I am in a pretty darn good place. You know how they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well now I know that this saying is not just a river in Egypt. So, without further ado, and with no more mixed metaphors, here are a few pictures of my new apartment as seen through my rose-and-rent-controlled colored glasses:

Here is the view of my place from across the street. That's me waving; third turret from the left.
And here is where omelet magic happens:

After a long day at the lab, it's nice to curl up in one of the 27' corners with a good book. The curtains were $17 at Job Lot!

And when I need to get away from it all, my reading corner:

And when it's time for a little shut-eye, there's nothing quite like that clean-sheets feeling. 100% Jersey Knit from Target!

Here's some friends at our little apartment-warming the other night. It's so nice to meet the neighbors.

Here's one from yesterday morning. Seriously, the landlady is great.

So, here I sit in the peace and quiet of my new home. If you're passing through, come on by. I'm at the corner of West Elm and bliss.

Love,

Your Davis Girl

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
--(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

Best. Christmas Gift. Ever.

I mean it Mom and Dad. If you want to top last year, you'd better be getting me a small island for next Christmas because I don't know how else you could top this.

If this isn't Mom or Dad, let me explain: Last Christmas, Mom and Dad offered to pay for me to attend a writer's conference in New York City. After a little background research I realized I'd be a donkey's behind not to take them up on it.

So I did. Which is how last weekend, I got to spend two and a half days rubbing elbows with fellow writers, authors, literary agents, editors and publishers. I mean REAL professionals. The late Michael Crichton's editor was there. Like I told Mom and Dad last night, I'm still reeling from the weekend. But I did manage to get a few things out before a literary brain freeze.

TOP TEN THINGS YOU LEARN AT A WRITER'S CONFERENCE IN NEW YORK CITY

10. Adjectives don’t make your book literary.

9. Rejection is just your manuscript getting sent to the wrong person.
8. The voices are normal.

7. If you're having trouble revising your story, print it out in a different font or size. This will detach your subconscious from what it thinks the story already is, and give you a fresh point of view.

6. If you're stuck, go back a few pages. You just took a wrong turn.
5. Prologues are old news. If the information is that important, call it the first chapter.
4. If the Writer's Conference Etiquette Handbook says "No cornering a literary agent in the bathroom," it doesn't mean you can't say hi while you're both standing there washing your hands. Just maybe don't have the toilet paper stuck to your foot, next time.

3. You know you're a writer if you've ever missed the middle and/or end of a movie because you're too busy re-writing the opening scene in your head. (Guilty!)

2. Bring business cards to the conference. If you didn't bring them, DON'T PANIC. He Who Requests To Be Known In This Blog As Ranger Sexy Pants (HWRTBKITBARSP) or another trusted adult will hop on Staples.com, talk you through business card design options for an hour and seventeen minutes, patiently listening to you deliberate between bold times new roman or left-justified italics. Then, HWRTBKITBARSP or your trusted adult will locate the Staples store closest to your writer's conference, have the cards printed there, where you can pick them up on the lunch break later that day.

Brilliance, thy name is HWRTBKITBARSP.

AND THE #1 THING YOU LEARN AT A WRITER'S CONFERENCE IN NEW YORK CITY:

1. If Michael Crichton's editor writes you a referral for a literary agent, you might not be that bad of a writer.

Among the sea of hopefuls, few get to be in the picture.

FROM: TheGuiltFairy@gmail.com
TO: Everyone@email.com
SUBJECT: Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

Dear Readers,
It's been too long, I know. And I've missed you all too. But as much as I'd love to hear how you've been and what high-yield charities you've started, I'm here on business.

Due to the recent increases in my unparalleled generosity, I, The Guilt Fairy, have just unburdened The Davis Girl from her responsibilities as primary blogger on this site.

And this time, there's going to be some structure. Although we all enjoy a nice laugh now and again on the foibles --the many countless foibles of a certain writer (The Davis Girl)-- my new and improved blog will be interactive.

What does this mean? Well, I'll tell you. It means that for every three questions submitted to this new and improved advice blog, I will personally donate 47,196 bags of rice to St. Mary's School for the Emotionally Unavailable in Gulu, Uganda. It means that this, The Guilt Fairy's Advice Blog is the best thing since sliced bread. It means that instead of mindless drivel, we'll finally be reading some facts and getting some answers.

What's that Dear Readers? You're worried that you'll never laugh at your poor sweet moderately coordinated Davis Girl again? Oooh, ye of little faith. Of course you will. Just as soon as we've covered a few ground rules:

THE GUILT FAIRY'S ADVICE BLOG RULES

RULE #1: All Questions to this Guilt Fairy MUST be submitted by no later than 7:00pm the night before a posting. Late and/or misspelled submissions will be deleted in the order they were received.

RULE #2: Anything goes. Anything. Ask away. That's why I'm here. To give you, my Dear Readers, the best advice I can. Worried about your career? Love? Fortune? Ask me... Wondering if you'll ever find that cost-efficient non-pesticide nasal decongestant? Just ask me! I've got ALL the answers folks. And if you're not 100% satisfied with the responses, then ask your self: 'When was the last time I visited the elderly?'

RULE #3: Spelling counts so check twice, submit once. Just kidding!

But seriously, check your spelling.

Until such time that The Davis Girl decides to grace us with her presence, I, The Guilt Fairy assume command of this prestigious blog. In closing, I'd like to say something brief about the economy:
Something brief about the economy.
HA-HA! Oh, my pretty sparkling wings hurt! I'm laughing soooo hard!

You should be too. It took a four-day hunger strike to think of that. But knock it off. Seriously.
Guilterators are standing by, so I'll take your questions now. Write to me at theguiltfairy@gmail.com.

.

Yours Truly,

The Guilt Fairy

This cute baby animal moment is brought to you by The Guilt Fairy's Advice Blog.
Have you volunteered at an animal shelter lately?

A Note From The Guilt Fairy

Dear Readers,

Please excuse The Davis Girl's four-month absence from this blog. She has been working somewhat diligently on her future feebly proofread novel. Would it kill her to run spellcheck once in a while? Nevertheless, I take full responsibility for her absence (and 7% royalties, contract pending). She will be returning after a brief word from her Guilt Fairy.

Thank you,

The Guilt Fairy