I’m not even using the fakey “it’s me, not you” line. It’s definitely them. And they are sucking the very soul out of my writing life. To wit:
Pulling up the book featured on my daily calendar and related suggestions on Amazon.com – 15 minutes
Scrolling through Facebook – 10 minutes
Pulling up books on Amazon.com that other people are raving about on Facebook – 15 minutes
Scrolling through Twitter – 10 minutes
Pulling up books on Amazon.com that other people are raving about on Twitter – 15 minutes
Checking out Cake Wrecks – 5 minutes
Surfing for information about some inane point in my book and calling it “research” – 10 minutes
Checking out I Can Has Cheezburger – 5 minutes
Googling “writer’s resources” found Hemingway and a bunch of other stuff useful only if I actually finish a manuscript – 20 minutes
Pulling up daily Kindle specials on Amazon.com – 15 minutes
Hmmmm. Two hours. Two hours of my life that I could have spent writing. Pretty much every single day. Not to mention the cost of all those books on Amazon.com.
I’m not a moron. I just play one in real life. And even a fake moron can recognize real moronic behavior. So ten days ago, after my last whine-fest about not being able to get any writing done [sob] I gave social media and internet surfing the boot. I don’t miss it and I’m positive it isn’t missing me.
Coincidentally, without all the social media distraction, I am back together with Bob. I recently finished reading Chapter After Chapter (a schizophrenic ride, to say the least) and one of the resources the author mentioned was The Weekend Novelist Writes a Mystery by Robert J. Ray and Jack Remick. I didn’t even have to fight the urge to fire up Amazon.com, because this book is already languishing on my book shelf, half read. I gave up working through this a couple of years ago, but I pulled it out and decided to give it another go.
Voila! Now that I’m not surfing the best hours of my life away, I’m back into my writing groove. And enjoying a glass of Cline’s 2012 Red Truck, red blend, a budget-friendly, delightful summer porch wine, and some white cheddar cheese.