Yesterday I brainstormed a concept with my husband, got home and settled, set myself a time, sat down, and wrote a short story based on the kernel from beginning to end, and only went over my time by thirty minutes. I don’t know what to tell you about it, other than this is possible. I’m nothing special here. I’ve been priming the pump, have the urgency of actually needing the writing income now (this is a big deal), have support at home (also a big deal), and as in so many other things, the planning is key to success. But not, I emphasize, an outline of the story. I cannot outline, once I have my brain is like ‘yay! we’re done, on to something else now…’ and suddenly I’m thinking about where the tomatoes will be planted this year, and are those squash going to survive so close to the chicken coop?

I just closed out the Day Job, a three-year contract which had run it’s course. I’m job hunting, of course (technical writer: Stability Administration-Quality Assurance) but in this day and age that will take time, possibly quite some time. We planned for this, with savings, his retirement income, debt reduction to alleviate the burden, and me starting to really ramp up the writing. My plan was, and is, to publish something every month this year. March was extraordinarily busy, due to wrapping up the Day Job neatly with a bow to not leave what remains of my team in the lurch. Also, I’m busy with Raconteur Press, and my few Graphic Design clients. I have family stuff. And while I’m hunting for jobs, it is very difficult indeed to squeeze writing in on top of that. However. Immediately on logging off, shipping the company laptop, and submitting my final timesheet, the First Reader and I got in the car with overnight bags and headed for the city.

I did not, deliberately, pack a laptop. We didn’t have a long time to wait – the doctor appointment was very early in the morning. Plus, I just wanted to not look at a screen, not work, spend time with him. Remember what I said above about priming the pump? I’m finding the best ways for me to do that are to walk away from the computers. Quiet time, reading a book (in paper, even!), conversation with my beloved. On the way home the next day we were again talking about my plans for the writing. I’d tentatively talked about putting out a collection of shorts in March. I have a few stories out of their exclusivity period with anthology publications. I could pull a few of my flash fiction pieces previously published on my blog. I could, possibly, perhaps? Write a brand-new short that weekend.

So he did what he has always done best for me, although it’s been difficult for him in recent years, and threw a story idea at me. His concept was dark, near horror. But there was something in it… I sat down at 1500, planned to write until 1700 and see what I got. What I had was about three thousand words and a sleeping husband, so I kept writing until I was done. All told, close to 3500 words of a complete short story. I sent it to him to read when he was up and around again. He came and found me after he’d read it. “Very sweet, not what I was expecting. I really like it.”

What I had done was take his idea of a little boy with a mysteriously-appearing rubber duckie, a ghostly cat, and worried parents, and given it a subtle twist. A nosy old lady neighbor, human nature, and what evolved from my relaxing into the story, toning down drama and conflict, was a cosy family story. What I was in the mood for. Sunshine, springtime, revival and renewal of spirits (and I don’t mean the big old cat, who is a mischief-maker!). Because I let the story and my mood guide me, it came out smoothly, I didn’t have to fight it. I worked hardest at keeping the dialogue natural and true to each character. The setting provided itself from a place I have seen but never been (in point of fact, from a lawn-mowing video depicting two beautiful houses built by the same family for siblings, which had fallen to rack and ruin). You never know what is going to fall through the filter in your brain and into the story – certainly reading through all the Miss Marple books from beginning to book three or four had an effect on my writing this story.

Today, I plan to do it again. Not a full short story. I won’t have time as it is a very busy day of cleaning, cooking, the plumber, and social events (plural!). However, I want to start the story, and finish it tomorrow. The goal is to have about ten thousand words of fresh new material for the collection, which I plan to collate and prepare for publishing Sunday night, shooting for publication on Monday. This is a highly compressed timeline. I can manage it because I have the tools, the skills, and the experience. Again. I’m not special. You could do this, if you so chose. I’m pushing myself because just like a muscle, the brain responds to stretching and pulling in moderate amounts. I have no intention of burning myself out, in April I will be maintaining a much more temperate pace, but still writing like it is my day job, keeping a similar schedule to what I have done for the last three years. Discipline: that’s what this all boils down to.

I don’t anticipate being a full-time writer for the rest of my days, although it does sound awfully nice if I don’t think too hard about being wholly self-employed with all the attendant worries and tasks entailed. I have no less than four novels partly written, a novella queued up for April publication (I have to finish it!) and a number of novels I’d like to get written sooner than later. I mean to take advantage of every bit of this time I have been given, and do useful things which will also make me happy in it.