By Sheila Lowe, mystery author and handwriting examiner
A couple of weeks ago, after discharging my duties as conference chair, I spent a week cleaning up post-conference stuff. Figured after that I'd get back to Inkslingers Ball, the book I'm working on (#5 in the Forensic Handwriting series). Somehow, it hasn't happened. The closest I've gotten is reading the last few pages I'd done and making some really nitpicky edits. But nothing got written.
Meetings, birthday, a great movie--About Time. Loads of the ever-present email. All the fascinating murder stories to follow through the Web--a mystery writer's treasure trove. But nothing got written.
My office area was a disaster from the past few weeks, so of course I had to spend all Friday getting things sorted--it looks really nice now. But nothing got written.
I'm not sure where yesterday went. I never left the house. I can't even blame Lexie the Very Bad Cat, as she made herself scarce all day. I do remember doing the L.A. Times crossword and consuming a whole lot of Stuff You Shouldn't Eat (getting ready to start a strict diet tomorrow). Finished reading Elizabeth George's latest tome (700+ pages!!!). But nothing got written.
So I guess I'm just procrastinating, and not sure why, as I've set myself the goal of finishing the book (it's 50% done) by the end of the year--and I really like the story.
Today, I had a legitimate excuse, which will carry over into tomorrow. I spent several hours listening to the audiobook files for WHAT SHE SAW, which my wonderful narrator, Aria McKenna, has just completed. It's fascinating to hear someone else's interpretation of one's work. She's done a super job. I just forgot to tell her to pronounce Detective Jovanic's name Yo-Vahn-itch. My bad. I had to give him a tricky Croatian name.
So, basically, nothing got written.