Thursday, November 02, 2006

Maybe Deadlines Aren't So Good For Me

Dream last night: I had returned to Boulder High School as a 33-year-old (yes, I really did graduate the first time around). I was in a furious panic because I'd forgotten to go to school, and gone to Russia instead -- and so was trying to do a semester's worth of homework (though I'd only been in Russia for a week in the dream) in the hours before class. This is what one day of writing does to me?


Anonymous said...

Have you gotten to the point that you've broken down the remaining time and and figured out that you have to write 532.67543 words/per hour in order to make the deadline? You can stall for an hour doing that. And then you can stall for hour tomorrow refiguring it all because you left working, sleeping, eating and bathrooming time out of the equation. Then you can just keep up the stalling by refiguring the time out of the equation that it's taking you to refigure each time. By the time you get a handle on the whole vicious mathematical dilemma, you may be left with six or seven minutes of actual writing time and who can possibly be expected to write a book in six minutes?! ;)


Anonymous said...

Um ... Stephen King?