I've put myself on a schedule. Richard's ranting about Ernest Hemingway finally sunk in.
"You're never going to be the next Ernest Hemingway," he yelled to me every morning as I struggled to pry my body out of my cozy, warm bed.
I'd yawn and pull the covers over my head.
"Hemingway had a schedule. Write, fish, drink then sleep. You'll never be like him lounging around in bed," he'd say.
"OK. OK," I agreed.
I set the alarm for six and I must be out of bed by six-thirty. I happen to be a big fan of the snooze button. I have breakfast, read the paper and then set off on a walk by seven-fifteen. Writing begins at eight-thirty until lunch.
I've been on this schedule for a week and a half. I stay pretty much on track. If there's something interesting on the Today Show I might stay and watch for awhile. There's been a few mornings I didn't sit down until close to nine. It's progress in any event.
There are so many distractions to writing on a computer. Email, Facebook, check the stock market. I have to check Amazon every day to see if One Clown Short had any sales overnight. Sometimes it does. That makes it even harder to get down to business.
I can't say I have much work to show for my efforts in the past ten days. Too many electronic distractions. Then add Richard and Ginger to the mix, I'm lucky I get anything done at all. It's coming though, I can feel it. My writing has to bubble up and stew for awhile before it appears on the page. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.
Every day I become more and more focused. I think the rule is if you do something for three weeks it will be come habit. I still have a way to go. But I'm thinking maybe I should trade in my brand new, top of the line, laptop and all its distractions in order to become an award winning author like Ernest Hemingway. Anybody know where I can buy a typewriter?
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