Discipline

Tonight’s struggle was with the single most important part of the writer’s body. Remember? It’s the gluteus maximus, and to succeed it needs to be parked in a chair in front of a word processor.

When it came time to work tonight, the old glutes gave me a hard time. “Why do you want to do that?” they whined. “it’s Friday night and you’re dead tired, and you’ve got a belly full of warm dinner. Why not watch the Caveman DVD again and then go and play your guitar?”

It sounded good. That’s the trouble with temptation.

To be honest, I’m not sure how I overcame it. Maybe it was years of writer’s discipline (I should note here that I had to learn writer’s discipline – it took me four and a half years to write my first novel [DM]). All I know is that I ended up putting one foot in front of the other and found myself at the Macintosh. So I sat on my glutes, and because of that I got five easy pages tonight.

So the stage is set for tomorrow. My wife and daughter will be gone all morning and for part of the afternoon. So I think that will be the time when the doorknob rattles, there is a scratching sound… and before they know it, my two protagonists are fighting for their lives.

So now I think I’ll go and play my guitar anyway.

Today’s Scorecard:

Chapter: 7
Page: 208 (+5)
Words: 49079 (+1213)

NP – Dandy Warhols, Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia

This is a brilliant album. Whatever happened to these guys?

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