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)