This Calls for a Show on TLC

The maid of honor flowers are hanging and half dry, November is looking more like Thanksgiving (as I type the rain is pummeling my window), and I am less than a quarter through my novel. 

I'm not super concerned, which is wierd because usually I beat myself up about not finishing something to which I committed.  Don't get me wrong, I am a little upset. It would be great to have this book rolling and be on the way toward the end, but I am not and there is nothing I can do to change that. I just don't have the time to make up what I have lost, but I'm certainly not giving up yet!

And, I do have two 8 hour drives ahead of me this weekend.  Perhaps those will help me catch up a little!

How do authors do it? The real ones? It strikes me that I have never looked in to this, but only noted how the big events of authors' lives panned out. Shelly died at sea, Greene was a philanderer, Austin an old maid, Hemingway an expat. But how did they write? before they were famous or paid well, when they worked in mills and cafes and whathaveyou - what techniques kept them at the table?

When did you find time, Dickens, when?!?!

 What was it? Insomnia? Reclusion? Total abandonment of all non-writing related activities and whithered away from loss of basic sustainance?

(That sounds about right, actually.)

This was much easier to do last year when I was frigthfully unemployed and lived with my mother. Humpf!

I could learn to manage my time more efficiently, however. I won't deny that. Although, I'm not willing to defer grocery shopping and showing up to work in order to write.

UGH! My moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth will have to continue on my own time.

Here is a somewhat appropriate tribute to my slackerness. But be warned, the lead singer has a big mouth and it wierd to watch. But the video doesn't make any sense anyway, so don't worry about what you see.