I’m packed and ready to head over to Mrs. GM’s house on the beach for a day of working in solitary confinement. Well, not completely alone, as the housekeeper will be there, two cats, and a different view than we have at The View. Just no phones ringing, and no one dropping in unexpectedly and then staying for an hour, constantly asking, “So, how much work have you done on the novel?” Well, none, actually, since you’ve been here.
And I won’t be tempted to have another espresso, or pour a glass of wine later in the day, until I’ve accomplished a reasonable amount of editing. Or bake, or eat more food than I need to. Far more distractions here at my house than the Memorial Park Library or a coffee shop in Calgary. Even with everyone else all around me talking on their cell phones or tapping on their own computers. I can tune that out. And friends generally make an appointment to meet me for coffee – they don’t just drop by and not know when to leave.
I finished reading Stephen King’s On Writing and am pumped to use the wisdom I’ve gleaned from that. Have been up at 5 a.m. these past few mornings, and it’s amazing how quiet the island can be while it’s still dark. It seems about the best time to edit or read. But that only lasts an hour before the sun is up, the cats are crying to be fed, and the phone begins ringing as everyone else thinks about starting work for the day.
I’m not listing Facebook and email here as distractions. To me they’re lifelines to the real world.
Wish me luck with the editing!