Happy September 26th. You know what that means: Only 89 shopping days left ’til Christmas! As I like to say, get out there and buy those useless Christmas trinkets while you still can. Speaking of useless things, once again I (semi) proudly present the Story of the Week. Inspiration in the form of a prompt was donated by Jan Farnal. Thanks, Jan!

      They Really Needed This

Since it would be a three-hour trip, Herman and Laverne left extra early for the time management seminar.

Halfway there, Herman thanked Laverne for locking the front door. She playfully shoved him. “You’re kidding, right?”

They headed back home, where a big-rig rollover delayed them another hour.

Then they ran out of gas.

“You said you filled it up.”

“No. I said ‘Phillip’s up.’ His porch light was on.”

They eventually reached the (now closed) event. The marquee read, “If you fail to plan, you plan to… Never mind. You’re too late. Ironic, right?”

“Guess they told you.”

“Me? Nice try.”

Prompt: 14-hour roadtrip

NOVEL NEWS & NOTES:

Why early morning writing sessions can be dangerous…

As you know (or maybe you don’t), last year when I got serious about writing the first draft of Questionable Characters, I knew I needed to get up at zero dark thirty if I wanted to be sure I’d be able to get the writing in before life could get in the way. I got up every morning somewhere between 5 and 6 a.m. (not an easy feat for somebody who never really loved the early morning thing). I discovered that not only could I do it, but that these early morning writing sessions made my whole day. If I accomplished nothing else during the rest of my waking hours, everything else after 8 a.m. was gravy because I got my writing in.

So where does the danger come in that I mentioned above? Well… My early routine is to get up and take Scooter, the pandemic puppy, on a walk. This happens while it’s still dark out, and even though our neighborhood (still under construction) has forced out most of the wildlife that was here long before we were, there are still coyotes around, and my pre-dawn walks coincide with their “let’s hunt for neighborhood pets” schedule. Last week, we had three days in a row of being stalked by one very determined coyote who we were able to scare off with yells, bright lights, and chasing, only to have him return. I finally had to start carrying bear spray, and on the fourth day of being stalked, when I removed the safety clip on the canister, I had an accidental discharge, blasting some of the spray into one of my hands. I never needed to use it on the coyote that morning, but I can assure you that if I had, he/she/they (I make no pronoun judgments) would have been in tears, with burning hands (paws?) and even some coughing.

I had to do a full de-con operation when I got back home, but like the trooper I am, I still got my writing in. And that is why early morning writing sessions (or at least the pre-writing routine) can be dangerous.

I’m out of time to talk about my actual writing today, so instead I’ll include a screen grab of my progress. My goal is to have my next draft of 85,000-95,000 words by the end of November. Since I already had 13,733 words when I put this post together a couple of days ago, I’m feeling pretty good about my progress. Next week I’ll talk about how things are going so far. There may be more coyote updates (tearful as they may be—at least for one of us).

Thanks for listening.

Scotty out