Wow! I am amazed and humbled that people are not only reading this but actually following my blog. And the Twitter followers (Meg Cabot?! Fabulous YA and adult writer?!? Too cool!)! Thank you for taking the time to read, and enough interest to follow. I will try to keep you entertained.
It's cold and rainy here in North Texas....a perfect day to write! I happen to be one of those picky writers. I prefer a quiet ambiance...no music...no phone...no people. Unfortunately, that isn't always possible. I have two vocal dogs (Lady and Duchess) who tend to bark at invisible people. Lady, especially, will lie down next to a bedroom window that faces the street. The windows are long and only a few inches above the floor. Lady places her chin on the sill and watches, diligently, for possible intruders. Initial warnings come in the form of a low growl, and quickly grow to barking. Duchess gets the message: Trouble! (I can't help but think of "Lost in Space" robot that waved his arms and announced "Danger, Will Robinson!" but, of course, one must be of a certain age to remember that!). Then both of them race outside through the dog door to defend the realm. It's comforting to be so well protected, but it can also be LOUD!
The other semi-distracting entity to my writing space is my sweet husband. We both work at home, in one office. We get along very well (good thing, huh?) and truly enjoy spending time together. We love to ride motorcycles, play pool, travel, and any other mischief we can find. The "issue" (I won't designate it as a "problem" because it's kinda cute) comes up when I want to write...in a quiet room...all by myself. The Husband tries really, really hard to leave me alone, but, bless his pea-pickin' li'l heart, he just can't help himself. After an hour or so, he becomes convinced that I am bored or need something. And he checks in on me.
"Want anything from the kitchen, hon?"
"No, love, I'm fine. Thanks!"
I'll be good for another hour or so, and then...
"How ya doing, love?"
"Doing OK, thanks!" (This may or may not be said through gritted teeth.)
I might get another hour if I can devise an errand or chore to occupy him. Eventually, guilt sends me back out to re-join the world. Sometimes it's frustrating, but luckily I find it very sweet. He loves me; I love him. How can an interruption here and there, in the grand scheme of things, be a bad thing? Especially when its motivation is spending time together.
The result? I'm learning how to write in the more public areas of our home, with the TV blaring, dogs barking, and the Husband making comments and asking questions. Not so picky, picky after all.
How do you handle interruptions? What do you when your focus shifts (with the help of external sources)? Do you struggle to get it back, or go with the flow?
Have you been there?
