A typical morning finds me waking up around six o'clock. I don't set an alarm unless I must be up for something, but even so, this is about the time my mind decides enough is enough and forces me from my bed. The cats probably have a hand in this as well, some deal between them and my subconsciousness having been struck. Me waking up means they get food, thus, they like it when I wake up. Not that they are starving. Hell, I usually have to toss out the food from the day before that is left over because at some point they deemed it unworthy of them.
Once the cats are fed I make my coffee. Unlike most people I don't NEED the beverage to wake up, but I do NEED it to write. Since day one of my writing career all those years ago it has been a part of my routine. Not having a cup of coffee loaded up with cream and sugar on my desk would be the equivalent of not having my laptop. Without it I just can't write.
While the coffee is brewing I sign online and check my email, Facebook, book sales, book reviews, and a few others sites where I like to keep updated on the updates. In my head this checking of sites and interacting on Facebook comes to an end once the coffee is ready, but in reality that is just the moment I open my book file. It takes quite a bit more determination to pull myself from the web and to focus on the work, but once I do it always begins with me reading what I wrote the day before, making some changes if necessary, and then continuing with the story. Fifteen hundred words later I usually call it quits, unless I'm nearing the end, then it's usually twenty five hundred to three thousand words. Actually, in the beginning I usually manage about two to three thousand words a day as well, but then, once I get into the middle of the book it seems I get bogged down with a lot of thinking and can only manage the fifteen hundred words. In the beginning of my career this would have scared me because I would have feared something was wrong with the book if I couldn't get a sold two thousand words a day. Now, however, I know I've completed plenty of novels while suffering though the sluggish middle moments, so it doesn't really faze me.
By noon I'm usually done with the writing, which is when things get weird for me because I spend the rest of the day feeling lazy for not doing more writing, yet know that if I try, nothing else will really come out. Plus, I completed my daily total, so I should feel a sense of accomplishment, but I don't. I see the computer sitting there and feel I must do something. It never works though. A blog post, maybe, but adding more to the book, not unless I'm near the end and it's completely writing itself -- the last thirty pages of TEXT MESSAGE was written in two days, the second of which went till about nine at night. I loved it. Same with NIKKI'S SECRET. Once that ending is near things just take off. It is an incredible feeling, one that I wish would carry along with the entire project.
So, what do I do with the rest of my day? All the same things anyone would do when not working. I read, hang out with friends, make tea, build puzzles, play with my cats, hook up with girls, go to parties, and, if needed, go to the grocery store. Soon I may also add working a part time job to the mix since I'd like to move closer to my family and friends, which means a higher cost of living, one that my books just can't sustain at this point (some months they could, others they couldn't, so I'd rather not chance running into one of those bad months without a second way of making money).
There you have it. That's what I do. If it seems dull, that's because it is. Sitting down and writing for several hours isn't very interesting. The things I do when not writing, however . . . well, let's just say I live a good life.