This has been a tough week for getting anything done on my current work-in-progress. Temps my daughter would find normal for Tennessee are breaking records here in the north. My office over the garage is not air-conditioned and a ceiling fan can only accomplish so much. So I am working in the house on the couch with my feet propped on the coffee table and my laptop on my lap. Why not the table? It’s fine for checking Facebook, but not the right height for typing. My arms soon begin to ache and I create problems for the future.
So I am in a setting that says, “What are you making for supper?” “That bathtub is a disgrace,” and “You’ll be able to concentrate a lot better if you pick up first,” instead of the setting that says, “The only thing that matters here is your characters and their predicament.”
Of course, even at my desk, I can be distracted. Especially by the Internet. I’m supposed to be on Facebook. It’s part of building relationships with my audience, right? Besides, I’m trying to get that fan page set up before the blog tour next week. Next week?! Maybe I should check my e-mail and see if any of the bloggers have questions.
And then there are my grandchildren. Love having them around! But not being able to escape to my office because of the heat means it is a lot harder to avoid interruptions. I am SO grateful that it never occurred to me to write fiction when my kids were at home. I would have been a terrible mother. Either that or a terrible writer. I just can’t sink into my story world in a South African township while a two-year-old is asking for Cheerios or Kai-Lan is playing in the background. (I am amazed at the women who do manage to write at the kitchen table with kids all around.) I especially can’t resist the child asking to go to the beach that is 75-feet from my back door. (It is only that far because zoning laws didn’t allow us to build closer.)
Priorities have never been my strong point. I’m not ADD. On the contrary, I tend to focus until I forget everything else—the critique I promised, my neighbor’s needs, dinner. So when my grandchildren are here, a December deadline seems a long way off. Even a Friday blog deadline can slip my mind until the last minute. Besides, it’s too hot to sit at the computer. Let's go to the beach instead.
LeAnne Hardy has lived in six countries on four continents. Her books come out of her cross-cultural experiences and her passion to use story to convey spiritual truths in a form that will permeate lives.
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