A friend sent me a link today to a hilarious article in the Toronto Globe and Mail on the writing process, specifically the perils of being on deadline.
Heaven knows I desperately needed a laugh, as I’m a week and a half away from turning in my latest novel. Anyone, anywhere, who’s ever been on deadline knows exactly what this means. It means I’ve barely been out of my pajamas for days. It means a steady diet of cereal and pizza and Junior Mints. It means ignoring your spouse, your dog, your children, your friends. It means leaping out of bed in the middle of the night in a cold sweat because you just got an idea for fixing that pesky plot hole at the end of chapter seven, an idea that might be brilliant or might be rubbish but either way you’d better write it down immediately or you’ll forget it.
Will Ferguson riffs brilliantly on deadline fever in “How’s the Book Going?” I laughed out loud at what he had to say about procrastination, and loved his description of the annoying habit that books have of “stubbornly and — it must be said — ungratefully” refusing to write themselves. And I also appreciated the timely reminder of Douglas Adams’ (of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” fame) immortal quote : “I love deadlines. I love the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.”
(Adams, it’s worth noting, was so notoriously bad at meeting deadlines that his editor used to have to literally move in with him for a couple of weeks to get him to finish a book.)
Thank you, Will Ferguson. You were just the boost I needed. Back to work here…