You can lie on the couch with your eyes closed and still be working.
You can act out your fantasies through your characters.
You can get revenge on someone you dislike by making them a character in your book and having bad things happen to them.
Your eccentricities can be excused.
You can choose your own working hours.
You can visit naughty websites in the interest of research.
A four-hour appointment in the dentist's chair for prep for crowns can be made bearable by using the time to plot a novel.
A brief article about you in the local free newspaper gets you mobbed by one elderly lady in the supermarket who recognises you from your picture.
You can write off your home office/software/internet/research material on your tax return
You have a good excuse (I have a deadline!) when you really want to watch Boardwalk Empire
Same excuse is also handy for Pajama Days!
You can listen in to other people's conversations on public transport and in restaurants and not feel guilty because you might one day use it in a novel.
Lol, I've actually done this! The villain in Night Touch is a deranged dentist (Dr. Pull). I gave the book to my real dentist. He said he was amused. He sure was rough putting on that crown, though...
Lol, I've actually done this! The villain in Night Touch is a deranged dentist (Dr. Pull). I gave the book to my real dentist. He said he was amused. He sure was rough putting on that crown, though...
I'm still sitting with the temporary crowns. Have to go back on Friday for another 2 hour appointment. Had a tooth that didn't agree it needed to be extracted and the dentist had to drill into the bone - took about 20 mins to get it out. By that time I'd stopped trying to make the whole thing into a humorous article and needed a second dose of Rescue Remedy
Set my own hours
Dress code, or lack thereof
Guilt-free eavesdropping
Guilt-free reading in and out of genre ("It's research!")
Guilt-free Pinterest/KB/GoodReads time
Self-employed, no drug tests, work as much/little as I want, anything I want to happen will happen...And I can pretend I'm smarter than everyone who can't write a book.
The commute. Five steps from my bed to my desk in the morning.
Playing with/bossing around my imaginary friends all day (and there's not a damn thing they can do about it.)
Contributing to the world of literature which I've loved since birth.
You can lie on the couch with your eyes closed and still be working.
You can act out your fantasies through your characters.
You can get revenge on someone you dislike by making them a character in your book and having bad things happen to them.
Your eccentricities can be excused.
You can choose your own working hours.
You can visit naughty websites in the interest of research.
A four-hour appointment in the dentist's chair for prep for crowns can be made bearable by using the time to plot a novel.
A brief article about you in the local free newspaper gets you mobbed by one elderly lady in the supermarket who recognises you from your picture.
You can be absolutely anywhere/everywhere/any position/alone or in a crowd and still be working - on the toilet, in the shower dictating, having sex and typing, flying and typing, eating and writing, thinking about sex and writing, breastfeeding and dictating, at work and dictating, having sex (from behind) and dictating - too much sex, need to stop writing in erotica!
You can be absolutely anywhere/everywhere/any position/alone or in a crowd and still be working - on the toilet, in the shower dictating, having sex and typing, flying and typing, eating and writing, thinking about sex and writing, breastfeeding and dictating, at work and dictating, having sex (from behind) and dictating - too much sex, need to stop writing in erotica!
One of the things I HATED about my previously full-time job was the need to be accountable to everyone about every 15-minute slot of my time.
I gave the big bird to...
... mandatory daily word counts
... work plans and schedules
... deadlines
As long as I can write 2 novels a year from scratch I don't care where the time or words come from, and I can bum around on the internet as much as I want. Oh, wait, some of that would qualify as "research".
That's funny. Last night I was on deviant art looking at half naked soldier men to gather ideas for my writing and my partner gives me this sideways look and says, 'What are you doing?'
I tried to keep a straight face (I should note that well built soldier types are NOT my sort at all. Give me Benedict Cumberbatch anyday --Sherlock Holmes UK version) and I said, 'I'm thinking about how to describe masculine men.' He smirks and says, 'Well, my ego just receded.'
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