When I was growing up, my neighbor said that if you were having trouble ... feeling down ... whatever, just let the Bible fall open and it will open to just the advice you need.
Well, my Bible is now the bookstore. (Oh, sacrilege! Oh, you hypocrite! You heathen!) Actually, I think my church is the bookstore. What better church? What better place of worship? Between that and the little sitting rock by the stream, I’m set.
Anyway, after I set up my computer and get my tea, I head towards the book part of the bookstore. I always get this little tingle inside, like there’s one, very special book that I’m just meant to find today, something to lead me, inspire me, or comfort me. Just something special, something I’m meant to read.
Sometimes I find it right off. Like today. Boy, are you going to be surprised. *insert eye roll*
The first book that caught my eye was Find Your Focus Zone: An Effective New Plan to Defeat Distraction and Overload.
Now that was so obviously it, that it made me laugh. Often I guess at what could be the book of the day. Sometimes I gather five potentials, and never feel like I found the one.
After finding the book, I gather my "friends." These books keep me company while I write. Often, I’ll have as many as six books at my side, which I don’t even crack open. (It’s my writing time, not my reading time!) Usually, there’s a Stephen King for character inspiration and a recent read that inspired me. Maybe a writing book, self help, spiritual, whatever. (Neil Gaiman and Nora Roberts often write "with" me, and Marcus Sakey even spent a significant amount of time at my side this summer, especially for a debut author.)
I won’t actually open these books. They’ll just keep me company, kinda like a security blanket.
So I’m off on a huge writing spree again. Why is it that I can write quickly (and best) under pressure, but take the your-cat-is-going-to-die-if-you-don’t-write-and-sell-something-now pressure away, and I lolligag along at the slowest speed?
Damn. I get so annoyed at myself, sometimes. How am I ever going to get an agent and publish in NY, if I can’t write without a deadline choking my neck? We all have our personal demons, I guess. What’s yours? And how to you get past it?