Life Underground
December/17/2008
To everyone who has emailed their concern about my disappearance:
I’m writing this from a secure location.
I’ve been writing a book about marketing since Thanksgiving week, and this is what I have to do when I write a book: I have to disappear.
I used to worry about the miserable process I go through when I’m writing something that is more than your average chapter in length. Then I read an article about how “real writers” (famous ones who make lots of money) worked their magic. Every one of them was different, but the process I remember most was that of one of my literary heroes: Maya Angelou. Ms. Angelou writes from her soul, and the process still scares and thrills her. She writes on yellow pads, and the whole business is so daunting that she sometimes feels the need to separate herself from others when she goes through it. So she’ll check herself into a hotel with her Bible and a bottle of booze to sustain her.
Fortunately, when you write about business you don’t have to write from your soul, so my process is a good bit simpler: I sit at a computer and become invisible. My pets and my husband know that I’m not here, because if I were here, I would be too loathsome to be around. I become visible only to eat M&Ms and real food that thankfully Jim is kind enough to cook at leave in the kitchen for me. I am also visible several hours a day while watching true crime programs from my DVR stash. However, I am invisible to email, housework, Christmas preparations, and the rest.
Writing a book usually takes around two months, but this time I’ve gone high tech, using voice recognition software, which I’m loving (MacSpeech Dictate). I think I’m actually saving time, and my neck and shoulders are definitely in better shape, because you can sit back and talk the book to death instead of hammering a keyboard.
With only two more chapters to go, I’m emerging into the real world for a quick trip to Atlanta and back. Then I’ll disappear for several more days, and that will be that! Back to the real world.
Thanks again for your concern! See you soon!
Ann
I’m writing this from a secure location.
I’ve been writing a book about marketing since Thanksgiving week, and this is what I have to do when I write a book: I have to disappear.
I used to worry about the miserable process I go through when I’m writing something that is more than your average chapter in length. Then I read an article about how “real writers” (famous ones who make lots of money) worked their magic. Every one of them was different, but the process I remember most was that of one of my literary heroes: Maya Angelou. Ms. Angelou writes from her soul, and the process still scares and thrills her. She writes on yellow pads, and the whole business is so daunting that she sometimes feels the need to separate herself from others when she goes through it. So she’ll check herself into a hotel with her Bible and a bottle of booze to sustain her.
Fortunately, when you write about business you don’t have to write from your soul, so my process is a good bit simpler: I sit at a computer and become invisible. My pets and my husband know that I’m not here, because if I were here, I would be too loathsome to be around. I become visible only to eat M&Ms and real food that thankfully Jim is kind enough to cook at leave in the kitchen for me. I am also visible several hours a day while watching true crime programs from my DVR stash. However, I am invisible to email, housework, Christmas preparations, and the rest.
Writing a book usually takes around two months, but this time I’ve gone high tech, using voice recognition software, which I’m loving (MacSpeech Dictate). I think I’m actually saving time, and my neck and shoulders are definitely in better shape, because you can sit back and talk the book to death instead of hammering a keyboard.
With only two more chapters to go, I’m emerging into the real world for a quick trip to Atlanta and back. Then I’ll disappear for several more days, and that will be that! Back to the real world.
Thanks again for your concern! See you soon!
Ann