obsessed – Linda Cassidy Lewis

In my last post, about National Novel Writing Month, I said I have no problem writing every day, or almost every day. My problem is the opposite. I can’t make myself quit writing long enough to do the house cleaning I should do. My friend Kasie suggested a better goal for us would be to have a National House Cleaning Month (NaHoCleMo) and Tricia said count her in, so—you guessed it—we’re doing it!

I’ve set my goal for 5,000 minutes of house cleaning for the month of November. If you’re a clean freak—or maybe just normal—you probably fainted at the idea that should have to be a goal. (I’ll bet you’re signed up for NaNoWriMo.) In any case, that’s a true goal for me. Feel free to set a goal that’s a challenge, but in line with your own situation. The point is to pry our fingers off these keyboards and get us clearing out the clutter and grime that in our non-fiction worlds. You know it nags you!

Through the month of November, you’ll see my little progress meter to the right, tracking my progress. To get your meter widget, just click here.

So, if you’re obsessed with writing to the point that your dust bunnies look more like dust hippos—join us!

NaHoCleMo rules:

Every minute of cleaning counts towards your goal of 5,000 for the month. In addition to the usual things like dusting, vacuuming, toilet and shower scrubbing, you may also count:

Laundry sorting, loading, folding, and putting away, but not the actual washer/dryer cycle time.

Cleaning up after meal preparation and serving: including loading the dishwasher, and putting away dishes, but not the actual dishwasher running time.

You may not include in total minutes:

Shopping (not even for groceries or cleaning supplies)

Eating (though you can count the time it takes to clean the food off your keyboard :oops:)

Thinking about cleaning (including pep talk time)

Writing (that’s how you got yourself into this mess)

If you’re in, let me know!

"The Confession" by Sir Frank Bernard Dicksee

They say confession is good for the soul, so I’m taking the plunge. <big breath>I am obsessed with writing. There, I said it. I decided to come clean, in hope that it might save you from a similar fate. I only hope that after you read the following you don’t gasp in horror and deny you ever knew such a depraved creature as myself.

I confess:

I have learned that my multi-tasking tools developed when I had four little boys under my feet, suit me very well when I have Word, Twitter, Facebook, email, and my browser open all day.
I have sat down at 7:00am to “fix this one little paragraph” and not stood up again for hours.
I have made a meal out of chips, salsa, and a cheese stick (eaten at my keyboard) because everything else needed to be cooked and I was in the middle of writing a brilliant flow of dialogue and couldn’t spare the time.
I have been caught up in writing when the mailman rang the doorbell and realizing it was 2:30pm and I was still in my pajamas, coughed loudly, feigning sickness, as I opened the door.
I have learned how quickly you can thaw meat and prepare a decent meal after my husband calls at 4:30pm to ask what’s for dinner—and I’ve been so immersed in writing I would have sworn it couldn’t be much later than noon.
I have rushed to the computer at 3am because, when I rolled over in bed, the omg-I-can’t-believe-it’s-so-perfect word to use in the third sentence of the first paragraph in the fifth chapter popped into my head.
I have kept Netflix movies for two months because every time I sat down to watch one, I got distracted by a great story idea or the solution to a revision problem.

Oh, I could go on, but I couldn’t endure the shame. If you recognized yourself as you read the above, run—run fast—from your keyboard. Stop writing NOW before it’s too late!