Shopping, deadlines, cleaning, decorating, and contests.

Oh, yeh, that pic says it right - increasingly during this time of the year.  So much to do as one holiday leaps straight into another.  Throw in that deadline and things get really hairy.  It's always when you really need to get something done at a certain time that Murphy's Law kicks into high gear.  Interruptions that halt the flow of the story from brain to paper(like needing to get a molar yanked out on Tuesday), the characters decide to get persnickety on you and refuse to do what you need them to do in any way, shape, or form, even if you spend hours trying to figure out why they won't(tweaking plot ideas, playing with character charts, and so on), or your Muse decides she needs to go sunning in the Bahamas for a few weeks.  Bi**h.  Oh, and let's toss in a DH who has days of vacation left to use up and will only be working 1 day a week until the New Year, in the dead of winter, when he can't go busy himself outside.  I think I feel a breakdown coming on.

Now, I love the DH.  Will have been married to him for 40 years come March 23rd of next year.  But he doesn't get it.  I think that's a big problem with hubbies or wives or assorted live-ins if they aren't writers themselves.  They don't understand that when said writer is trying to sink herself deep into Medieval Scotland with guys who say lass and dinnae and aye(and have rock hard abs, muscular legs, and big - swords), a guy in a grubby tee-shirt stepping into the office to ask if she is going to be doing any laundry today is not helpful.  Yanks one right out of the story.  As do questions about which cat is outside or is she going grocery shopping any time soon because he's getting low on milk or - picture's clear, I think.  Said writer begins to entertain violent thoughts such as learning how to turn on the chainsaw so she can cut him off at the knees.  Then let's see him walk in and interrupt the flow.   Ah, and then there's the quiet pace through the office to look out the windows as if they don't look out on pretty much the same thing all the other windows do but why should that trouble me as he's being very quiet.  I bet there are a few writers out there who'd be willing right about then to hold him down as I rev up the chainsaw.

So - yes - the writing is creeping along.  When that molar with the cracked root gets yanked out of my mouth on Tuesday there's a chance it'll slow down to a snail's pace for a couple of days.  True, my contracted deadline is December 30th but who the heck wants a deadline hanging over their head right over Christmas?  Looking like it might be hanging over mine, though.  I know - cry me a river, world's tiniest violin playing, poor poor pitiful me, etc.  I know I have it good right now but I reserve the right to whine now and then. Sort of like the multi-billionaire who gets weary and bored watching his money pile up while all he has to do is contemplate his navel lint.  Or, maybe not.

Rant over.  I'll wrestle the story and recalcitrant characters into submission in time to meet deadline even if it means sitting up at the computer on Christmas.  (Boxing Day is when the family gathers so can't do it then)  And Thank God for internet shopping.  Now if I could just find a horde of minions to clean the house, put up my far too many decorations, and tidy up the basement, I'd have a big smile on my face.  Then again - maybe not.  Something tells me they'd probably interrupt me more than the DH.

CONTEST!!!!  It's a big one - on my website: http://www.hannahhowell.com/ .  It's a puzzle and a count-up-the hidden-pictures game.  It's hard but the prizes are worth it.  1st place: A Kindle, 2nd Place: $50 gift certificate from Amazon, 3rd place: a signed copy of HIGHLAND PROTECTOR and one other book of my own choosing.  Hope you'll pop in and give it a try.