I keep getting behind in my writing. It's so easy to make goals for yourself and then keep putting off the steps necessary to achieve those goals. I had just one goal for the last several months: write a thousand words a day. In the last three months I have written less than would be considered a short story. What? With Facebook, YouTube and on demand streaming TV and movies, writing just has not been that appealing.
My procrastination comes from my addiction to the Internet. Housework goes unfinished, my waistline is expanding, my pocketbook is shrinking and my career is at a standstill. The latest episode of The Simpsons really hit home for me.
Homer gets a team together to quickly write a trendy book that appeals to popular themes in the young adult literature demographic. While Lisa sets out to write a book of her own that is inspired and original. While Homer and his team quickly turn out a cookie-cutter theme novel they hope to get a million dollar advance from, Lisa spends her time doing crosswords, visiting coffee shops and watching kitten videos on the Internet. Not writing.
When it comes time for Homer and his group's book to be published, they discover the publisher has changed significant details of the novel and what turned out to be a get rich quick scheme degrades into a plot to avenge the rape of their creativity by switching the to-be printed manuscript with what they originally wrote.
There were other subplots in the show, but it was Lisa's role as the cliché writing dilettante that really hit home. Will I always sabotage myself and my future career because writing takes effort and it is simply easier to forgo the work and watch documentaries on ancient aliens?
I have tried to create schedules to follow, self-imposed deadlines to keep and even a game to keep me on track with my writing. I pin the schedules up where I can't help but to see them. I mark the deadlines on my calendar. I even keep a journal of my progress in the game. Unfortunately, the best place to hide something from my view is in plain sight. I seem to enjoy the whooshing sounds that deadlines make as they fly by and the game has no immediate rewards. In short, I can't keep me from deciding that I'd rather be doing something else.
It comes down to long-term planning verses short-term rewards. Accomplishing my goals would provide me with a lifetime of pride, but the journey to the finish line is long and mostly boring. Watching George Carlin's Live at Carnagie Hall one more time, makes me happy right now!
If only I did one thing. You see, as I have been writing this blog entry I have been keeping track of my word-count. This blog is roughly five hundred words and has taken me about twenty minutes to write. If I only spent twenty minutes a day writing the same number of words I can write either three novels a year or forty-five short stories. Makes alacrity seem that much more appealing.
New YouTube videos of me reading my work!
The Closet With No Door, The Boy Who Waited
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