Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work. -Thomas A. Edison (1847 - 1931)
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Today is crazy busy with me playing shuttle service for my daughters and all, but nonetheless I'm so excited to be packing for Glen Lake! I always end out hauling along all kinds of things, just in case I need them. I figure I'll be working on Free Lunch, but WHAT IF I feel like working on IFFY? Better bring that along. And then I get thinking WHAT IF I want to work on that camping essay that I jotted notes about in a journal some time ago? Better bring the journal. And oh, I need my dictionary of cliches. And my thesaurus. Then there is the music factor. I've got my mp3 player, but I need to bring CDs so that I can share with Robyn.
The list grows. I even throw in some food, figuring that maybe I'd better eat something in between writing. And I can't go without my pillows. Two of them. The memory foam kind. My husband drew the line at me bringing my memory-foam mattress topper. Probably a good thing since Gloria is riding with me and already I don't know where her stuff is going to go. Maybe if we tie it on the roof.
I did manage to drag my sorry sack of a body out of bed this morning in time to get a little bit of writing in. But boy, oh boy, am I looking forward to writing tomorrow until all the lights in the other cottages go out and I'm yawning fit to split my face and I can't even thread two words together. Then one of my crazy roommates will see fit to rise at the crack of dawn and I'll pull the pillow over my head, swearing that it's an insane hour of the morning to get up. But my mind will start turning over, first with a dry cough like a car battery in the dead of winter, but then with increasing frequency, and after a few minutes I have to get up and head over to my computer, eyes half-shut and hair all wild and scary, and that computer will chime Hel-lo and I'll be off again, away in a different world, a different reality where I am just the manual laborer, pushing down keys that will tell some one's story--and maybe I'll even find out it is my story.
Whoa, boy! Do I need some sleep or what? Sheesh. Keep writing all of you slackers out there. Sit! Butt in chair! Now write.
2 comments:
Sarah;
"... first with a dry cough like a car battery in the dead of winter, ..." Love that line and image. Make sure you save some time at Campfire to have smores, chat, etc. I'm not a night owl but my job is to wake the rooster so he can announce dawn.
I can't be there until Friday night. Damn work!!! I'm bringing a couple of things to edit and a journal to work on a query letter and a follow up to another piece.
The Treaty article hit the newssatnd this month. Hurrah!! I won't get rich, but at least it's published.
See you Friday night.
Larry--
How absolutely awesome! I'm so glad you pursued the treaty information and then had the satisfaction of getting it published. Yeah, don't suppose many writers get rich, but oh, the satisfaction! The only things I've managed to get noticed are grants. Which is nice (and a good deal of money), but I'd love to hear that someone wanted to publish one of my manuscripts.
And I've got some dark chocolate that melts at the slightest breath, so I'll be at the campfire at least one night. S'mores are a must.
Don't worry, Friday night is better than nothing. You'll still have lots of time to write and talk writerly. Especially if you don't need a whole lot of sleep!
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