“Go write your novel.” That was the first thing E said to me this morning when I woke him by letting the alarm snooze and getting back into bed, and it’s also the last thing he said to me as I walked out the door.
It’s what social networking sites should say to me before I log in. It’s the ticker that should run at the bottom of the TV screen, no matter what channel I’m on: “…go write your novel, Nova, go write your novel…”
I just want E, and anyone else who may have concern, not to worry—I am writing the novel. I promise. I am well aware of the deadline. And you know, soon, writing the novel is pretty much all I’ll be doing. In fact, starting next month, I’ll soon be on a strict Internet diet during prime writing hours—and I’m hoping that being emailless and Twitterless for long chunks of time, and not answering my cell phone because at my writing spot you can’t use your cell phone at your desk or you could get kicked out, won’t make people worry that I got run over by a bus or something.
So, if you can’t reach me: I did not get run over by a bus. I’m just writing the novel. (Or I’m watching TV*.) How about you? Are you writing YOURS?
* Haha! Really, I’m writing the novel, I swear. I hope E doesn’t use this as an excuse to turn off the cable.