There are times, when I'm in the world I've created, sitting around a table with the folks I've brought to life. I'm drinking tea, because I always drink tea, and I'm suddenly so effing tired of having to figure out what everyone else is drinking. Oh, she wouldn't drink that, she's allergic to milk. No, he's never touched a drop of whiskey since the war, or she'll wet the bed if you give her another. I. Am. Sick. Of. Being. In. Charge.
That's when I scarper, which is a fine old english* word for doing a runner, and surf the intermanet, as my husband calls it. So does everyone else in America when they are simultaneously bored and tethered to a computer. BUT my writing time is so little, so precious, that I have a rule: fool around and fritter away time, but do it on writing sites. My twitter account only follows things of writerly interest, the blogs I follow are also writerly, whether by writers, about books or about the business. I look up conferences that I have no money to attend. I work on my series bible by looking up Irish slang terms. I spend time doing the administrative work of writing. I TOUCHETH NOT THE FACEBOOK!
Here are two links that I came across today that I found inspiring in a writerly way. These are the kinds of voices in the abyss that help keep me going.
The Rocky Road to Paper Heaven by Margaret Atwood
Three Years Ago by Natalie Whipple
I only glanced, three minutes tops, E! online, and I save the guardian and the new york times for the mornings when I need a jolt of 'ugh' to wake me up.
How do you waste your writing time?
*No it isn't.