No, it's not hump day. No, it's not Prince Spaghetti day. And it's definitely not Sweet Polly Purebred.
It's the post that ya'll been waiting fer, that post that only pops up on the first Wednesday of the month so that all us insecure writers across the blog-o-sphere can share all of our individual experiences, the gud, the baaaaaad and the plug ugly.
Believe it or not, I had a real problem in coming up with a topic, simply because work has been kicking my buttocks from here to there, and from there to here.
Fortunately, one presented itself not less than 3 minutes prior to sitting down in front of this computer.
As a writer, collectively we are used to working with ultra-tight deadlines so that we can have a shiny new product ready for the finicky people (i.e. editors, agents, beta readers) who we are beholden to. We may not like those kind deadlines, but its a necessary evil in our chosen line of work.
And then there are those deadlines that are self-inflicted.
You know the kind I'm talking about. Those arbitrary deadlines that we impose on ourselves to either motivate us (HA!) or destroy us (that's the ticket). In my particular case, those artificial deadlines that I've imposed on myself in the past few years have been for the most part, epic flame outs. The last solid deadline that I made for myself and managed to keep, was re-releasing my commercial debut. I wanted to get it back out last year, and I managed to do just that.
Prior to that, most of the deadlines I've inflicted on myself have been absorbed so much fluid as to make them utterly useless. But I still keep trying to bring some desperately needed order to my writing life by setting these deadlines, in the faint hope that I'll actually act upon them.
How 'bout you? How do you handle deadlines, self-inflicted or otherwise?
(c) 2015 by G.B. Miller. All Rights Reserved.