Tag Archives: procrastination

It’s 3 Days Till Christmas. Do You Know Where Your Presents Are?

My Family's Ranch

I could conquer the world, if I could just get around to it. I hate that I procrastinate. This time, I procrastinated with Christmas gifts. I had this awesome plan to put together a book for my family about the family ranch. I would combine my grandfather’s short stories about the ranch with family photos and use one of those nifty and fairly priced websites to create a “professional” book. I came up with this idea at Thanksgiving.

The non-procrastinating family (courtesy o' Shutterfly)

And from Thanksgiving until today, I avoided it. I let it creep around in the back of my mind like a rat infestation. But I did nothing to fix the problem. This makes me a bad person and I know it.  (In my defense, I am trying to make a living writing & teaching & noveling, which takes up lots o time.)

Nonetheless, I valiantly tried to find a place that could make me a photo book by Christmas. This is America, damnit! The land of Capitalism and Opportunity. A mere photo book by Xmas should be more than possible. Let me give you my money! …Somebody? …Anybody? Is there anybody out there with a printer and a cash register?

After a day of searching, the answer is apparently not. So I changed strategies. Who needs the Internet to make a book, anyway? I could make one myself. Using paper. And thread. Or something.

A quick Internet search on “easy bookbinding” found the above instructional video. The dinky music and 5-year-old instructor fit both my situation and skill level. But the question is, will my family (any family?) appreciate a book bound by ribbon as a gift from an adult?

So the real question is this: Do I give a place holder gift and order the book now (Thus inviting derision but delivering superior quality)? Or do I try to hand bind 10 books with ribbon or some other YouTube concoction?

PS. The word count on my novel is 48,507. I need to get a move on that as well.

The Saturday Night at Home Writing Paradox

Often my writing takes me to new and exciting places. Those places usually involve celebrities, foreign travel, free food, or a combination of the three. But tonight, it takes me as far as the kitchen table, where I am typing my little heart out. This is what I signed up for, right? Writing is the very core essence of what it means to be a writer, which is indeed what I yearn to be. If so, then why must I fight the desire to surf the Internet every five minutes?

this writer’s life: “Beating” Writer’s Block

I don’t get writer’s block … well, at least not in the traditional sense. You know, the anguishing combat against a blank page, the tossing and turning, the sweating, the screaming, the bleeding, you know, the classic version of writer’s block.

I also don’t get insomnia, which has much the same symptoms.

I solve both problems using one–though no necessarily good–solution. If I ever get a feeling that I might have trouble sleeping and/or writing, I simply avoid the bed/pen until I can stay awake/avoid my editor no longer.

While this strategy has indeed solved the insomnia/writer’s block problem, it has also brought on a new (and arguably worse) problem of bedtime inflation/procrastination. It’s kinda like bringing in cats to end a mice problem and then dogs to end a cat problem and then cougars to end a dog problem and then elephants to end a…

PS.  As an example, here is what I did last night instead of writing/sleeping (notice how I apply the same intense concentration to all activities, not just authoring):