I thought I was out of the woods as far as my screw up with deadlines a week ago but it’s a little more far reaching than I thought. I’ve become very used to an alternate weekend sort of schedule. The weekend before a deadline I’m basically locked in my apartment listening to music, brainstorming, typing, etc. in an effort to knock out a first draft by Sunday. And the weekend after a deadline I’m used to doing nothing on the writing front but thinking and daydreaming and going out and seeing friends and what have you. Sort of a recharge weekend.
So while I did manage to pop out a story last weekend in record time, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to count on my free weekend to tease out ideas. I thought I was just goofing off on those weekends. Turns out they were sort of important. Or at the very least I’ve come to rely on them. Moving from a work weekend to a work weekend…well it’s odd. In normal mode I wouldn’t need to come up with an idea until sometime in the middle of this coming week. But here I am with a finished product needed by the middle of this week.
It’s weird. That’s my point. I’ll be glad to get this done and then have my full two weeks for the next story.
Actually, this is my point: we’re going into some weird territory with this story. And that’s coming from someone who’s written about talking sweatpants, spirits in limbo impacting the course of history, and a mad scientist with a broken heart. So when I say this next one’s a little weird…brother, you’d better believe this next one’s a little weird.