It’s all well and good to set goals for myself, but it helps when my brain cooperates. Working on these revisions in the past week has been like pulling teeth with no painkiller. It shouldn’t be, since I know what needs to be fixed and, theoretically, how I should fix it. But there are a ton of other things crowding my brain lately, and they’re not book-related, unfortunately. I have had a few nice, book-related things, too, this week–Hunting Medusa has popped up on Barnes & Noble‘s site as well, which was a nice boost on a really rotten work day. I had big plans for today and yesterday. It’s not often I get two consecutive days off from the day-job. So I made myself a list: the usual household chores, cooking, revisions, some critiquing and writing. I got the unpleasant things out of the way first, the laundry, the time-sucking food prep (though, to be fair, once the chopping and mincing was out of the way, the crockpot and stove did the rest of the work for the two kinds of chili). Then I could dig into some of the critiquing I needed to do.
And then I opened my second Medusa to work on revisions.
Hunting down the muse seemed like a good idea. Shooting her seemed a better idea after a while. But I would have to find her first.
So, instead of revisions, I’ve been working on another manuscript instead, while half my brain is still cursing the recalcitrant muse. The revisions shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
Except they are. And now I’ve got that self-imposed deadline, and a week is already gone. So now there are less than six weeks left to finish these blasted revisions and meet that deadline.
I know I work better with a little pressure, but this is not exactly the way I wanted to do this.
At least the other story is flowing nicely. Some progress is better than none, I suppose.
How are all of you doing with your own personal deadlines?