Postcards from the Trip

So, how do you write a book? Well, it begins with a series of steps.

You start out kind of smug. You clean your desk. You think how great this book’s going to be…

You go to the kitchen and start plotting. Backstories come to you. The urge to drink coffee and snack on cake, too.

And eventually you get it all figured out. On paper anyhow.

Things are tidied. You take a trip to Creemore for a few visuals.

So, you start writing.

Your desk is ready for you. Short, fat, black dog is on duty.

 You are moving along like lightening. Or so you think.

But the cat knows. She lifts her head and says, “Psst. Hey you down there. Wake up, mutt. She’s going to hit the wall any minute. Be alert. Be ready. Coffee cake will be in the offing.”

And verily (because this is the perfect time to say verily), it comes to pass that the writer hits an impasse. Ooops. What to do?

Ah, back to the kitchen. We’ll figure it out there.

(Dog to cat: hey, do you think she’ll have coffee cake?) 

(dog on duty: see blanket, bottom of right hand picture).

Thinking gets kind of difficult. You move to the family room.

Cat on duty. See black splotch on red/gold blanket.

 Short, fat, black dog offers his opinion.

You don’t know WTF you’re doing, do you? (will there be coffee cake?)

Then you’re into DEADLINE HELL.

It’s a heedless, headless, desperate slog to the end. All you have to do is sit there and write the end of the book. Just go ahead. Sit. And write. And drink coffee. And go for pees because you’ve drank alot of liquids. And write. And give up on the concepts of

Laundry  and other stuff…some of it quite important.

 Free space on your desk shrinks.

Until finally…you’ve finished it. You’ve opened up your email account, you’ve attached it, and composed a cheery letter to your editor.

 You hit send.

And then you’re done.

You know what happens next, right?

Book 3.

Someone tell the dog.

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