Personal Success

I didn't get into erotic writing for the money. If I did, I'm pretty sure I'd judge myself as unsuccessful.

I wrote my first erotic novella as an exercise in writing. Prior to that, I'd been writing science fiction and was neck-deep in my Masters and needed a creative break -- so I took to writing about sex. While that first novella was published by a small house, I wasn't entirely satisfied with it, so I wrote another. It was better, but still not perfect, so I wrote a handful of short stories.

With each writing project, I could see my skill level increasing. My primary goal at that time was to get better at what I was doing -- so in that way, I was successful.

I participate in some erotica forums and in one of them, the authors write often about how they're achieving four digit sales ($1,000+) per month.  Here I was with twelve titles out and making maybe $15 per month. So my next challenge was to increase my sales numbers.

I read all the posts where people claimed to be making more than a thousand a month. They were writing short stories of about 5K to 10K words, pumping out roughly one story per day. Yes, one story per day. It was clearly marketed as a money-maker -- hot keywords were used in titles and subtitles, the metadata keywords were stuffed with hot phrases, and everything was priced at $2.99. Also, at the time, Kindle Unlimited was still paying authors about $1.35 per book read (this was before the half a cent per page change they implemented), and this was a big factor in the high income levels. Since the change in how KU works, there have been fewer people claiming to make four-digits, but it still happens.

I decided to give it a try. I didn't hope to achieve the four-digit income that others claimed to have, but I wanted to achieve higher sales. (You'll notice I keep saying they "claim" to have reaced those figures. I think there's a fair bit of ego involved in these posts and so I find some of the claims dubious -- but I do believe some of them do actually achieve those numbers.)

However, I didn't want to taint this main Cameron D. James pen name -- so I started a new one. This new name (which will remain unnamed in this post) writes short stories in the 5-10K range and does all the same things as those high-selling authors. The only aspect I can't match is the output -- I can't do daily. For a while, I did weekly. Sales didn't skyrocket, but they did pick up quite a bit for the new pen name.

The BIGGEST change as a result of this experiment wasn't the higher sales and it wasn't the establishment of a new pen name. It was learning how to approach writing as a bit more of a job than an art. Yes, there's still an art aspect to it and I have to love what I'm writing, or else it's clear I'm just writing for money. But now I've got the ability to sit down and plan out dozens of story ideas and then start writing them.

Writing a story used to take months, from inspiration to writing to editing to publishing. Now, if I have a good solid stretch of creative energy, I can have all that done in less than a week.

In the time since I started this second pen name, I started a third pen name that had the same approach as the second one (short stories, highly targeted, intended for high sales) but went in a different direction (very taboo and fetish oriented).

And with this change in how I write, I've been able to return to my old love of science fiction. I've written a first draft of my sci-fi novel (which will be eventually released under a different name) and have plans for some semi-paranormal-semi-historical thrillers that I hope to write in the coming years.

(With all this other stuff going on, this is why I haven't published anything under the name Cameron D. James for a while. I'm still picking away at a project, but it's a novella and I can only devote a few days to it every two weeks or so.)

For me, this is success. I'm able to take something I love doing -- writing -- and am able to go crazy with it. No longer am I tied up in one small project that takes months, to the exclusion of every other project. I make some money -- it's not a lot, but it's way more than I used to make on writing, and it is a nice bonus every month. And with self-publishing, there's no longer the endless cycle of submitting to publishers over and over. I can put together the book exactly as I want it and then put it up for sale.

In my writing group, I've been dubbed the group's Nora Roberts. (Roberts is a highly-prolific romance and mystery writer who publishes pretty much non-stop. When I used to work in a bookstore, we had several shelves full of just her stuff.) The rest of my writing group takes writing much more like an art, working on one project slowly until it's perfect. That kind of approach is great for them as it works for them. That never really worked for me, though -- I would always get frustrated that it was taking so long. With my personal change in work habits, I still have the same professionalism and desire for perfection that I always had, but I realize that I can work at a much faster pace -- and this will make me happier, more productive, and more successful. For me, success isn't about money, success is about doing what you want, how you want.



Cameron D. James is a writer of gay erotica and M/M erotic romance; his latest release is Seduced by My Best Friend’s Dad (co-written with Sandra Claire). He lives in Canada, is always crushing on Starbucks baristas, and has two rescue cats. To learn more about Cameron, visit http://www.camerondjames.com.

The Places in the Background

by Annabeth Leong

I don’t enjoy writing in coffee shops, though there are times I’ve managed it. They’re too distracting. Interesting people are moving around, conversing about things that make me want to eavesdrop, parading haircuts that inspire my envy. The various machines whirr and swoosh. Baristas call names that make my head snap to attention. My name. The names of ex-lovers. The names of former bosses.

I need to write in places where the background acts like a background. My favorite places are a certain sort of outside. Warm or hot, so I’m not shivering. Isolated enough that I’m not always catching movement out of the corner of my eye. Close enough to where I live that I don’t have to trek a long way.

I tend to gravitate to bleachers in school parks. Maybe part of it is that I’m a huge baseball fan. I relax right away when I clamber up a good set of them, shoes ringing against the well-punished metal.

These days, I do compose entirely by computer sometimes, but I know what to do when I get stuck. Print that shit out and take it to the bleachers. I revised most of Untouched at the bleachers closest to my apartment, soothed by the scents of sunscreen, hot aluminum, and spring grass. I do lots of my initial thinking and outlining there. I sometimes do first drafts, and I often do the first couple of pages of a new project.

When it’s winter, I long for that place. I rack my brain thinking of sunny places that can substitute. There’s an atrium at one of the libraries in Providence that I’ll visit when I’m desperate. Sometimes, if it’s not outright icy, I’ll stick a notebook in my bag and try a nomadic sort of thing, walking to keep myself warm, composing in my head, pausing to write stuff down from time to time.

Most of the time, I use familiar walks and places to relax me enough to overcome the many anxiety-producing aspects of the blank page or blinking cursor. There have been a few times, though, when I tried it the other way, leaning on writing to counteract the enormity of my location.

I once tried to hike Mount Katahdin with my sister, who was just completing a northward hike of the Appalachian trail. The short story is that I wasn’t remotely in shape to keep up with her. After a morning of pushing myself to my mental and physical limits, we were both at our wits’ ends.

I didn’t know how much more I had in me, and I looked ahead and saw several ascents still rising ahead of me. I also knew that the plan was for us to climb down a trail known as “the knife edge.” I deeply questioned the past version of me who thought a trail with a name like that would be a thing I could handle.

She was exhausted and frustrated by putting up with my slowness, which held her back from climbing with the friends she’d made over the course of the trail. Not only that, she was physically dragging me up certain rock faces.

We reached a plateau, and I had a powerful epiphany. There are many cliches about not quitting and never giving up, but I recognized the deeper wisdom of the one about knowing when to hold and when to fold. It was time to fold. I found a spot where my fear of heights didn’t feel too intense, sat down, and told her to go to the top without me. “I’ll be here, and I’ll be fine,” I said. “Just please come back for me because I know I can’t get down by myself.”

In truth, it was scary to watch her disappear into the mist, knowing I’d need a helicopter to get me down if she didn’t come back. I sat alone on the side of the mountain, water bottle propped between my ankles, and I pulled out my notebook and started planning a story.

I’ve never actually written it, though I still have the outline. I was thinking about times when heroism isn’t enough, when it’s time to fold, and I tried to come up with a story reflecting that. More than the story itself, though, I was interested in the act of writing, a lifelong habit that I thought might make this awe-inspiring and terrifying place move into the background so my racing heart could slow.

And it worked. When she came back for me, I was deep into my notebook and able to hike to the bottom.

The Black Hole

Ah, I'm following up very tough competition. Simone has the cute factor and isn't afraid to work it. I should have taken some pictures of my two girls peering over the top of the laptop, after all, that more than anything illustrates what living with this writer is like: three other people I share my life with trying to get Mama's attention away from "The Black Hole."

The Black Hole is my laptop, although strictly speaking it's not the laptop itself but the headspace I get into when a story is flowing that absorbs everything around me without any discrimination. My better half coined the phrase, and now even the 3 yr old uses the term interchangeably with 'puter. 'Puter or Black Hole, when Mama's on it, do not disturb.

I'm not a bad parent, truly. I gave them all my undivided attention up until last spring, when I hit 39 and was slowly consumed by the desire to do something for myself, which morphed quickly into the creative outlet of writing. At first, I "tried" it to see if I could. Then after I wrote the first novella, I quickly got an idea for another...and another...and, you get the point. 39 years of stifled creativity began to spew forth and I was lost.

Finally, my lifelong battle with insomnia became a plus. I would tuck my three into bed (yes, my husband too), and hit the screen until the wee hours of the morning. When school started, getting up to get the oldest to the bus on time wasn't a chore anymore, because it got me up and at 'em, with quiet time to work before the little one woke up.

I do try to limit my work time to non-kid time, but sometimes when the muse is whispering, I rely on my partner to take his turn with the kids and leave me to my keyboard. Practical cat that he is, this became much more palatable when the contracts began rolling in. The kids are still able to get my attention when they need it, and honestly, I have learned to try to put off any writing until after they are all in bed, using my daytime hours for the proofing and FLE I also do, as well as maintaining all my "Devon stuff."  Creation happens between about 9pm and 2am every night (Pacific time).

I'm most emphatically NOT a desk person, spent way too many years as a desk jockey in the business world to associate it with creativity. So after much trial and error, I finally settled into the old chair and ottoman that came second-hand from a hotel chain I used to manage, tucked into the corner of the guest room/office upstairs (good feng shui). Some of my best spates of story-crafting have come here, and this is where you can picture me, spinning tales and writing blog posts. It fits me, and I have the option of legs up, computer on lap, or criss-cross-applesauce with the laptop on the ottoman.

Since I'm more panster than plotter (and that is way understated), I have to go with the flow when the story is coming to me. Regular hours are by necessity as a mom, but there have been times when I just need to remove myself for a day from family life and let it all out on screen. I give this a rating, and even when it's tempting during daylight, only when I hit def-con five, code red, blinking lights, do I actually pull myself away from the kids to write...at that point, I wouldn't be much use as mom anyway as my mind churns away, prompting repetitive, "What was that, sweetie?"

I'm still a complete newb as far as writing habits & pacing myself, and my family and I are learning as we go. One thing I do know is that this is something that I can honestly never see myself "retiring" from. And though the laptop is going to be replaced on 1/2/10, and I might have to bolster the sagging cushion under me, I can tell you with certainty that the big 4-0 in February is going to be only the first of many big 0's that I celebrate with a cozy cuddle in "my" chair, The Black Hole open in front of me, doing what I love. And fingers crossed that my family gives me a fond and indulgent look before letting Mom do her thing.  Couldn't do it without them!

When All Else Fails, Plan B

by Helen E. H. Madden

You are reading this post on a Friday (unless you're coming in late, in which case I have no idea what day you're reading it). I am writing this post, however, on Tuesday. On this particular Tuesday, according to my very detailed schedule, I was supposed to get up at 5AM, shower, grab a cup of tea and a piece of toast, and head up to my office to write a story for the Heat Flash Erotica Podcast. Well, I did that, sort of. Unfortunately, on this particular Tuesday, I woke up feeling like DEATH WARMED OVER. I skipped the shower, realizing that I wasn't going to be able to stay on my feet that long, went straight for the tea and toast, and then trudged up to the office to write. I lasted about 500 words before I finally decided to go back to bed. At 7AM, I sent the Hubster to get the kids up. I got up long enough to make sure everybody (except me) got dressed, ate breakfast, and made it out the door. And then I went back to bed, and that's where I've stayed all day.

I'm feeling better now, and by the time you read this I hope to be fully recovered, but for whatever reason, on this particular Tuesday morning, I was a corpse and I ended up throwing all my carefully made plans for the day out the window.

I'm anal about my work schedule. I work at home and up until this fall, I've had at least one child underfoot while I worked for the last six years. This has taught me to plan my days accordingly, to set up a schedule that will allow me to accomplish my work, and to keep endless lists of things to do so that I won't forget some important part of my career as a multi-national best selling author (to be). I keep my schedules, both daily and weekly, on a spread sheet, along with lists of monthly, quarterly, and annual goals. All this planning and scheduling is something I learned in college and in the Army Reserves, and it has served me well through the years, allowing me to get work done under otherwise writing-adverse circumstances.

Perhaps the most adverse working circumstances I ever faced as a writer came during my first two years of motherhood. Princess, my first born, was a colicky baby who had a habit of screaming any time I set her down. It made doing even the most mundane of tasks, like going to the toilet, a challenge. I had to find ways to work around her fits and tantrums. I discovered early on that it helped to have a plan of action for those difficult days. I called it the Princess Meltdown Action Plan, and it went something like this:

The Princess Meltdown Plan of Action

1. Stage 1 - You've put Princess down for her nap, but she starts fussing in her crib.
   
   
   Let her fuss for 20 minutes, in case she falls back to sleep.
   
   
   After 20 minutes, or when she really starts screaming, take her out of the crib and calm her down.
   
   
   Once she's calm, give her a bottle of juice or milk and let her play on the floor where you're working.
   
   
   If working upstairs...
   
   
   You can do any project you need to do, but Princess is very likely to get into things you don't want her to have, like office supplies and the stapler.
   
   
   If working downstairs...
   
   
   You can't work on certain graphics projects or e-mail, since your laptop isn't set up for those tasks. You can, however...
   
   
   Write, outline, or research a story.
   
   
   Work on some Bryce artwork, since Bryce is on the laptop.
   
   
   Do updates to websites.
   
   
   NOTE: The laptop will need to be fully charged, or else you will need to bring down the plug to plug it in. However, Princess is unlikely to get into any trouble downstairs since that whole area is child-proof.
   
   
   Estimated time you can work uninterrupted - 30 minutes.
   
   


2. Stage 2 - Princess starts fussing again. She wants you on the floor with her.
   
   
   Get on the floor and play with her for 10-15 minutes before going back to work. If she's not actively interested in you playing with her, but just wants you there on the floor, stay there and use the opportunity to do some yoga.
   
   
   If you haven't done so already, change the scenery. Either move upstairs or downstairs.
   
   
   Try nursing her. She may want to cuddle.
   
   
   Try giving her a snack - banana, cookie, crackers, etc.
   
   
   Estimated time before she starts fussing again - 15 minutes.
   
   


3. Stage 3 - Princess continues to fuss. You have to stay on the floor, and you know she will try to take anything you have in your hands.
   
   
   If you are working downstairs, turn on Sesame Street or Wiggles to keep her distracted. Try again to work at the laptop.
   
   
   If you are working upstairs, move downstairs. See above step regarding Sesame Street.
   
   
   You may have to get on the floor and stay there. You will need a backup project that you can work on, something she can't destroy or something that you can share with her.
   
   
   Project idea 1 - thumbnail sketches for art projects. You'll have to keep the pens out of Princess's reach, but it's easy to keep all these supplies in the coffee table downstairs. Give her some crayons and sheets of paper if she wants to draw too.
   
   
   Project idea 2 - writing ideas. Use your palm pilot or a notebook to outline ideas, take notes, develop novels for e-books, etc. Make this thinking time!
   
   
   Estimated time before she starts fussing again - 10 minutes
   
   


4. Stage 4 - Princess is now screaming and clinging to your leg. She may also be biting, hitting, and kicking.
   
   
   Plan on not working for at least the next hour. If you are facing a deadline, either you or the Hubster may have to skip karate class this evening so you can finish your work.
   
   
   If the weather is decent, take Princess outside for a walk or run. Or simply let her play on the grass while you do yoga or karate.
   
   
   If the weather is bad, get a glass of wine and turn on Sesame Street or Wiggles. Accept that you're just not going to get things done for the time being.
   
   
   Estimated time before you get your life back - six or seven years...

Ah yes, the meltdown plan. It was so detailed, so easy to follow when my brain shorted out from too much screaming baby! The meltdown plan saved many a work day for me, and it also let me know when I should give up trying to work and just hang out with my screaming baby. There were some days though when it was obvious that we'd reached Stage 4 before we'd even gotten out of bed. On those days, there was nothing I could do but quit before I'd even started and spend the day on the couch holding my screeching offspring. Maybe Princess was sick. Maybe I was sick. Maybe, gods forbid, the Hubster was sick (he's the biggest baby of all when sick!), and I was going to spend all day taking care of someone instead of getting any work done. Those were the days when I resorted to Plan B, and we all know what B stands for, don't we? B stands for BLOW OFF DAY!!

Blow Off Day was my way of letting myself off the hook as a mom. On Blow Off, it's okay to eat cereal all day and watch cartoons for six hours straight (hell, why stop at six? Watch 10 hours, I don't care!). It is perfectly acceptable to sit on the couch and do nothing but read, either to one's self or to a child who's nose is so filled with snot you fear her tiny little head may explode. On Blow Off Day, we wear sweat pants and no bra or makeup and we are not ashamed. On Blow Off Day, we order pizza for lunch and dinner. On Blow Off Day, it's five o'clock somewhere in the world which makes it perfectly okay to have that glass of wine right now (so long as I'm not driving!).

I don't do Blow Off Day often. Or should I say, "often enough"? One of the best Blow Off Days I can remember involved me watching a Dirty Harry marathon while breast feeding a six-month-old Princess for nine hours straight. I had the IQ of a cucumber that day, and boobs that stretched to my knees, but it didn't matter. It was Blow Off Day.

One morning, when my youngest daughter, Pixie, was sick, I came up with the Blow Off Day Anthem. Here it is:

(Sung to the tune of 'Camptown Races' (better known as the Foghorn Leghorn song))

The house is dirty, I don't care!


Do-dah, do-dah!


Gonna lie around in my underwear,


Oh-de-do-dah day!


I cleaned the house last night


And the kids destroyed it today


But it's Blow Off Day and I don't care


Oh-de-do-dah daaaaaaaay!

Trust me, for all your writerly habits, for all those hours you spend in the chair battling the blank page, you simply must give yourself a Blow Off Day every now and then. It's okay, really. Go ahead and become one with your couch. In the meantime, I'm going back to bed, because hey, it's still that particular Tuesday where I'm at right now, and I hearby declare this particular Tuesday to be Blow Off Day. Enjoy ;)

A journey, not a race

By Jenna Byrnes

The reams of stories written on wide lined notebook paper, bound with orange yarn, don't count. Those started in fourth grade. My first heroine had twenty-some babies and just as many husky sled dogs-- for two reasons. One, like many ten year old girls I swore I'd grow up to be a veterinarian because I loved dogs, and if I couldn't have a dozen of them, my characters could. And two, I loved choosing names, and never stopped to think that I didn't have to use all my favorite names in the first book I wrote. But, I digress. I said those stories don't count. Back then, I could while away hours lying on my bed writing in a notebook. Man, what I'd give for some of that free time now.

When I picked up writing again as an adult, my children were little and it was a pastime for the evening hours when my husband watched whatever sport was on TV at the moment. Back then I had a used word processor (which at least allowed me to get rid of the liquid paper) and an old fashioned printer with paper that had tear-off strips on either side. I wrote my first novel on that thing, a 120,000 word tome that eventually got published as a nice, tight, 30,000 word novella.

I put writing aside during the child-raising years. In the span of nine years, besides working full time and raising my children, I was a cub scout leader, a boy scout troop treasurer and committee chairman, a religious education teacher (that one for the whole nine years, yes, I said- NINE years!), president of my church's council of Catholic women, Eucharistic Minister, church neighborhood group leader, on the committee for church activities planning, and tired....very tired. Once my boys hit those milestones- Eagle Scout, driver's licenses, Sacrament of Confirmation in 9th grade, I dropped out of my active life and let them fly solo for awhile. I was very glad to have done all those things, thrilled to have watched my kids achieve all they had, but I was ready to take some time back for me. I started writing again.


At first it was late night scribblings. I had an honest to goodness computer, though it would be considered a dinosaur now. I remember staying up late, usually on Saturday nights, and writing like crazy while the rest of the house was asleep. Those were interesting times, but not a schedule I could live with for long.

Once I began to figure out the write/submit/sign contract/edit/publish/promote cycle, I knew I needed more regular writing and promoting time. I've slowly settled into a schedule that works for me, even though it means getting up earlier than normal and missing a few lunches here and there (which nobody can tell, I'm sure.) Somehow I manage to handle the day job, squeeze in some writing each day on my own time, get my housework managed and end up with some family time as well. Okay, some days that means falling asleep in front of the TV which we've all gathered round to watch. (Someone will nudge me.)

The system isn't perfect--with such strict allowances for writing time, when I sit down to do it, if the words don't flow, I get frustrated and feel like a slacker. Then Jude kicks me and reminds me it's okay to take some time off now and again. I write a lot. I know it's not a sin to take the occasional break (though the propensity to worry about sin is ingrained.)

There are so many stories in my head, they fight each other to get out. These days, I'm usually working on one solo project and rotating between my publishers so I send each of them something fairly regularly, and I'm also working on a project with Jude. When she has the manuscript, I work on my stuff, and vice versa. So, like Lisabet, beginning each writing session by reading the last bit I wrote is especially important to me. Wouldn't want to stick the wrong character in the wrong book, LOL. (Actually, I've never done that but it sounds funny and I might try it to see if Jude notices.)

Writing is a habit, and sometimes when I don't do it, it's hard to get back into the routine. I write six days a week when possible, and save that last day for blog posts and catching up on stuff. I usually write about a 1,000 to 1,500 words a day. I've done up to 3,500 words in one day, and wish I could be that prolific all the time. But then I'm afraid I'd be back in that crazy active lifestyle mode, when I was tired all the time. (Even more tired than I am now, which I can't fathom.) So I try to remember that writing, like life, is a journey, not a race. Half the fun is in the trip.

Writing Habits

By Lisabet Sarai

After my rather fanciful post last week, I decided to play this one straight (though I couldn't resist the visual pun). Every writer does things a bit differently. I'm always fascinated to hear how my colleagues make the leap from that niggling idea to a finished story or novel. Let me share my approach.

Unlike some authors, I can't write every day. My normal schedule and my energy level don't allow that. Furthermore, I find that I'm most productive when I can devote a significant block of time, a minimum of three hours, to the writing process. So I try to set aside at least one day a week (usually Sunday) for dedicated writing. If possible, I arrange not to have commitments on that evening, either. That way, I don't have to break away when I am in the middle of torrid scene and the creative (and other) juices are flowing.

I'm extremely linear in my writing. I'm always amazed when I hear that other writers craft disconnected scenes and then later arrange them into a story. I almost always write from beginning to end. Furthermore, when I'm working on anything longer than 4 or 5K words, I usually organize my composition around the chapter structure of the book. (A lot of my submissions these days are to e-publishers, who solicit so-called "short stories" in the range of 10-20K, and want them with chapter breaks.) If I finish a chapter and it's getting near the end of the day, I often won't start the next chapter because I don't want to have to abandon it in the middle. I like my writing in nice, manageable chunks.

One question that always surfaces when authors discuss their methods is what kind of external aids they use for organizing and keeping track of their work in progress. I'm normally a fairly organized person, but I don't use notes or outlines when I write. For a short story, I'll begin with the premise and the characters plus some notion of the plot arc, but nothing else. It's fairly common for the story to twist away from my initial notions as I write and the characters reveal themselves. I've learned not to fight this, understanding that my intuitions while writing are more reliable than my thoughts when I'm not facing the screen.

When I'm working on a novel, I keep a (computer) file of notes, including a scene sequence, details about characters' appearance or history, and so on. Compared to what many other authors do, though, it's pretty sketchy. (On the other hand, my novels tend to be relatively simple compared to some of my colleagues who create entire worlds with the mythology to support them!) I may also have a paper file with background information about setting, time period, or topic. When I was writing Serpent's Kiss, which involves Mayan mythology and takes place in Guatemala, that file became quite thick. Even so, I mostly rely on my memory for detail when I'm actually writing. The notes file helps me generate and organize my ideas before I start writing, and to record decisions about plot and character--which I may or may not follow.

Because my writing time is so limited, I usually work on only one project at a time, in terms of actual composition. I may be planning or researching my next project, but I tend to focus on my current story, writing systematically until I get it completed. Of course, this habit makes it easier for me to rely on memory rather than external aids. I imagine that if I were like some of you, with three or four projects going on simultaneously, I couldn't survive without extensive outlines, notes and so on.

When I actually sit down for a writing session, I reread at least the last chapter, to remind myself of what is going on and to get myself back into the characters' world. This preparation also gives me the opportunity to do some editing. After being away from my work for a few days, I'm far more likely to see the awkward structures, the repeated words and the problem pronouns (a serious issue when writing third-person M/M stories, as I've been doing lately!) By the time I reach the point where I left off last time, I hopefully remember what I expected to happen next or at least have a sense of how the characters are thinking and feeling. It's not uncommon for me to ask the characters: okay, now what? Usually they can be relied upon to get things moving.

In the middle of a writing session, I try very hard to avoid interruptions and resist the temptation to do something else. I'll check my email no more than once in the morning and once in the afternoon. I'll get up and make lunch, get something to drink, or go to the bathroom., but that's all. My writing time is precious and I don't want to squander it on other activities. Even when the words aren't flowing very well, I force myself to continue.

I share an office space with my husband, who is usually working on some software project while I am writing. He understands that he should interrupt me no more than necessary. The cats also hang out on my desk, but most of the time they are not too demanding. Occasionally Mr. Toes insists on walking across my keyboard or standing in front of the screen (despite the fact that I've told him he's not transparent), but a few minutes of dedicating petting is normally enough to get him to settle down.

Blackness likes to knock my pens on to the floor (her precision "whop" is something to see), but she gets bored with this game fairly quickly.

When I've finished my first draft, I do at least one pass of self-editing, once again from beginning to end. This may sound pretty minimal but it's often sufficient, partly because I edit as I write and partly because my spelling and grammar are above average. (I only wish my creativity were at the same level as my grasp of the nuts and bolts!) Sometimes I'll ask a colleague to read and crit the work. Occasionally I'll be in the middle of something else and I'll be hit with the recognition of some major inconsistency that needs to be fixed. I'll write the point down, saving it for my writing day. On the days when I'm not writing, my focus has to be elsewhere.

Reading this post over, I realize that I sound pretty boring. Dedicated time for writing. Composing from the beginning to the end, chapter by chapter. Editing from the beginning to the end. No fevered, drunken all-nighters, pounding the keyboard until dawn, inflamed by the passion of my story. No long afternoons loitering in a café with my espresso or my absinthe, contemplating my fellow man and scribbling in my notebook. No fits of pique or anguish, crumpling my latest creation and tossing it into the trash (or dragging it to the Trashcan). No severing of body parts. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm really qualified to call myself an artist.

The truth is, though, that all these dark, glamorous myths about authors are mostly just that: myths. Yes, you need a modicum of passion in order to write, but that doesn't necessarily express itself in flamboyant behavior, dramatic gestures, or desperate excess. Books get written one sentence, one paragraph, one chapter at a time. To produce those sentences, paragraphs and chapters, you have to adopt whatever habits are personally effective--comparisons be damned.

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By the way: today I'm leaving for a two week overseas trip. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to get on-line. Certainly I won't be commenting as often as usual. But I will be at the Grip in spirit!