This week, we’re talking about what we do to celebrate writing goals–be it finishing revisions for our editor or getting a great Amazon review. Do we rent a Lear jet and cruise to the Caribbean? Or do we finally scrub the day-old Cheerios off the baby’s food tray? Let’s read on to find out…
1) I sleep. When I’m under deadline, I don’t sleep much. And when it’s two days before deadline, I’ve been known to go to sleep at 5 a.m. So when the deadline’s over? I sleep, and sleep, and sleep like a Sleeping Beauty who hopes that dang prince will NEVER find her.
2) I buy a new writing book. I am always on the lookout for a great book that will give me the universal key for writing a bestseller. My last one was a Writer’s Digest book on revising and editing. The next one? Writing for Emotional Impact.
3) I clean the house. I think I’ve mentioned before that when I’m under a deadline, certain things tend to slide (like cleaning) and my bathrooms rival one of those you’ve seen at a creepy roadside gas station. I never thought I’d be glad to get out the Lysol and toilet brush, but that’s what being a grown-up with responsibilities is all about. And trust me, taking off in a Lear jet to the Caribbean wouldn’t sit well with me if I knew my house still had gas-station-disgusting toilets.
4) I get on the phone. When I found out I sold my first book, the “call” came in the form of an e-mail and it was around 1 p.m. on a Tuesday sort of day (I can’t remember the exact day, but let’s go with Tuesday). Anyway, I had to call my husband. And then my mom. And then my mother-in-law. And then my sister-in-law. And my critique partners. Actually, I think I called my CPs between the mom and mother-in-law. I was on the phone a lot. And it was won-der-ful.
5) I go to a fancy restaurant. This happened when I quit the day job at a trade magazine and started working as a fiction writer full time. Sure, we were down a paycheck worth (insert muttered words here said with a hint of wistfulness during these economically trying times), and nothing says one-less-paycheck than a hundred dollar meal. But this was the start of me living a dream. And that was worth some $16 butternut squash ravioli.