Take one procrastinating mom add one iPhone. Subtract one sense of responsibility add one x-Ray camera app. What do you get?
Covert pictures of my kitchen!
Tripy ceiling fan!
Ooh what’s that?
It’s an alien!
Ok so this last one is kinda scary. I realized that I could do my own horror film with no actual make up!
Hehe! Ok so now that I’ve creeped you out first thing in the morning… Have a great day!
I know as a writer that procrastination is the enemy elite.
Even now, I wrote that sentence and then wandered off to put a kid to bed, then took a shower, then planned tomorrow and now an hour later I’m back. But was it really procrastination?
No. It was life and what is writing without life. Strife, angst, confusion, frustration are all part of life. No book worth it’s paper is about happy little people doing happy little things with rainbows and happy ever afters. No one would read them. There would be no fire, no passion, no lesson to bolster our optimism.
Real procrastination is about avoiding what you don’t want to do. Now, I don’t know about all of you but writing is absolutely what I want to do. There is no possible way that I could accomplish procrastination where writing is concerned. I’m always thinking about writing.
I plot and plan in the bathroom (provided there isn’t a kid bursting in on me), I plot and plan while I’m scrubbing toilets and making beds at work. I do some if my best thinking when I’m driving or in the shower.
Honestly, this morning was a great example of the real way that I procrastinate. I was checking Facebook as I ate breakfast and I came across a contest by Authors Publish.
It was for best character introduction. Supposed to be one sentence but intriguing enough for the reader to want more. So of course I hand to do it. Who wouldn’t?
I wrote “Damn clown’s gone missing again.” Not the greatest line but it worked at the time. So for the next 15 minutes I screwed around reading the other entries and comments. Then I noticed the time. Ahh! I should have been at work by now.
I hurried to get to the motel then spent all morning coming up with what my sentence should have been. I have no idea where the clown came from but now that he’s made his entrance into my psyche…he’s now part of the tumbling mill of creation that is my brain. Just like all great moments of inspiration. So I spent ages justifying to myself why my sentence was awesome and filling out the clown’s history and location and plotting his future.
Now that is procrastination! Making yourself late to work (that thing which makes money but feels like a complete waste if time because I’m not writing) just so you can be creative and share in other creativity. So enemy elite or creativity in raw form?