Writer’s have problems.
Besides the obvious!
Since I’ve started doing this full time I’ve discovered a new one almost every day.
All those people from your old job that call and ask questions anytime of the day about where something is, or how you did that task, or who to ask to get this thing they need. You know, because you’re just sitting at home on your ass doing nothing anyway, right?
That awesome five-star review, you know, the one that goes on and on about how great your book is and how eager they are to read your next one. The one that cant say enough about the plot, and the characters, and their secrets, and the way they finally discover the BIG THING that ties them all together so they can triumph in the end, …and gives the whole story away. It’s basically one long spoiler alert, but you love them!
The dog that now thinks that since your home every day then every day is now play day…all day…every day…and won’t leave you alone until she’s tired, which takes a few hours. Every day.
But today I discovered a new self-induced hell. When you have more time to write your brain strays on occasion and you naturally find yourself thinking about what you might want to write next. I’m currently finishing up book number 4 in my Jack Randall series. I already have plans for a serial novel after this and have even written the first episode. That’s great.
But TODAY my muse, that fickle bitch, decided that wasn’t enough to clog my mind. TODAY my muse inflicted the next big idea for book 5 on me as well! So now I have three different plotlines growing in my somewhat damaged mind with no way to stop them.
Why not? I mean, when I’m not sitting on my ass doing nothing I’m usually laying in bed all night just staring at the ceiling fan.
Sleep is highly overrated…or so they tell me.
Thank you for listening to my first-world problem. I’ll get back to writing something else now.