Writer Cherry Kent takes us through one night in her life where she, really, needs to get some work done...
20:23 The ability to ignore things I should probably not be ignoring is definitely a crucial skill to my writerly endeavours. Currently I’m on the sofa, determinedly focusing on my laptop and printed out draft, while some pretty suspicious crunching sounds are coming from the corner of the living room.
Our ginger tom Curry (Feline #3) is chewing his way through something. At first I thought it was a household item (it wouldn’t be the first, or second, time), but despite the dimness I’m starting to suspect it’s something he’s hunted and brought in. From the size of it, possibly part of a wild rabbit. Ick.
Part of me has to applaud his self-sufficiency. It is indeed past time he was fed. The rest of me is pulling the pregnancy card and refusing to investigate further. I’m writing. I’m pregnant. I’m definitely not going to go and deal with a semi-masticated rabbit in my living room.
Or, for that matter, with the other sounds that indicate Child #2 has popped out of bed and is chatting to my supposedly working husband. I’m WRITING. Ah yes, better get back to that then. Right.
It’s an odd experience, trying to judge whether to cut a scene while listening to increasingly wet munching sounds. Hyerugghh. Now there’s growling too – my darling favourite Marigold (Feline #1) has come by and possibly stolen a piece. She appears to be the one growling, and unfortunately no longer in the living room. Is it still procrastinating to deal with the ever-growing potential for a household clean up job if ignoring means it takes longer to deal with later? Question irrelevant: I’m WRITING.
20:31 Ah. The inevitable pop up of Child #2. Apparently, the graze on his knee is preventing him sleeping. Prescription of self-administered coconut oil issued, and this appears to have been acceptable. Now where was I…
Child #2 appears to have returned to his bedroom. Contented humming suggests prescription successful. Husband’s favourite Miaowface Mable (Feline #2) has found the abandoned remains of Possible Rabbit, and my unfortunate soundtrack of cat mastication has resumed. Feeling productive though – the sun wouldn’t shine in a south-facing window if it’s only just risen. “Sunlight” changed to “light”. Behold, the writer at work.
Housewife Self is rather hopeful Feline #2 will clear most of the increasingly scattered carcass before I have to go deal with it. 5.5 sides of A4 left to review tonight…
20:43 Housewife Self disappointed as Feline #2 exits. Aha! Lazarus (Feline #4) makes an appearance and applies himself to the task. Fingers crossed. Writer Self is still confused by how to handle dialogue formatting.
20:50 Oh no, the trump card: Child #3 crying. He’s been plagued lately by fears of unfriendly animals entering his room. Writer Self defeated.
20:52 Limped (pregnancy thing) halfway up the stairs only to find all seems quiet on the bedroom front. Hope the little man isn’t having a nightmare bless him. Hopefully Child #1’s kind offering of her large, favourite dog-teddy and promises it would protect him all night have headed the nightmare off.
Did a drive by the murder scene on my hobble back to the sofa. There appears to be a rabbit’s colon (reminiscent of an ammonite) and possibly heart remaining. Trying to scrub the images from my brain.
20:54 Husband puts in appearance. Writer Self trumped out again.
21:29 Target section edited! Just over an hour to do just under 7 sides of 1.5 spaced A4. But progress is progress. I theoretically have now finished my final opening section to submit to agents. Ta da! Although I’ve said that before so…we shall see. The danger of editing anything is always that apart from possibly disturbing the existing flow and making it worse, it’s far too easy to introduce new typos. And I’ve tapped out all my betas now. Feels a bit <scream face> to submit something only I’ve proofread. But you can only push helpful readers so far, and if they’ve overread it they’ll be less likely to spot typos anyway, just like me.
Fitted in a few sentences between husband leaving to feed the cats and Child #2 reemerging. Apparently, the knee no longer hurt but he now couldn’t sleep due to “overtiredness”. Cuddles administered and promises to come lie with him soon sent him back off upstairs. Time to make good on said promises.
Cherry graduated from Queens' College, Cambridge in Anglo-Saxon, Norse and Celtic far too many years ago. She lives with her husband, four free-range (home-educated) children and twenty-six animals in deepest Sussex. She's always loved fantasy fiction and is currently trying to finish her first fantasy novel, which she started when she was thirteen.
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