Man, I cannot even describe to you the procrastination right now. Let’s talk about what I should be doing.
Well. There’s the book pages for the three upcoming releases over the summer. And by “upcoming” I definitely mean “the first one comes out next week.” (I misread my calendar and thought the first was Friday. It’s Sunday. I may end up shooting the release to the following Friday. Or maybe Thursday. But releasing on a Sunday does not feel like a good marketing decision.)
Book pages! Require blurbs–three blurbs need to be written–and covers! Dear fucking god. Covers. Actually, if I can get Breaking Down finished (two stock photos are vying for the job, and I just can’t fucking decides which wins), covers will be all right, I think. Roller Coasters is still up in the air, but I already have the photo for The Boyfriends Tie The Knot. (The blurb for TBTTK will be super easy and fun, too. Seriously, Breaking Down is some dark shit. And RC isn’t dark exactly, but it has moments of sad. TBTTK is fucking shedloads of fun and games in comparison. It’s also maybe the closest thing I’ve ever written to a real romance novel. I know. You can’t fucking wait till August.)
I’m procrastinating about writing this blog post about procrastination.
Really. I have to choose the motherfucking picture for Breaking Down. I have to. If I had loads of money, I’d buy both pictures and mock those bastards up, but I’m too cheap to do that. So agony it is! (What’s that? You’re hungry for another Gimp tutorial? Here’s how to add a black border around your image. You’re welcome, future me, who still cannot figure out how to scale that shit without the edges blurring!)
Also, lots of research about video editing, which yes, is necessary. Video editing, yo. Because only a dickhead posts unedited videos to YouTube. Like only a dickhead posts unedited books to reading sites. (See, once I thought about it like that, I realized I had to not be that guy.)
What else? Jesus, it doesn’t even matter. I’m not writing, that’s how hard I’m procrastinating about production right now. And I know that writers procrastinating is about the most mundane fucking thing ever, but I don’t procrastinate ever. I mean that literally. I spend the whole fucking day piecing together those moments when I can get some words in, so I have no time to procrastinate. (Does that sound like a dick thing to say? Yeah, I don’t care. Everybody has the same twenty-four hours, yo. I’m a productive motherfucker with mine.)
Not today! Not today, I’m not productive. Fuck! I’m gonna beat out this story. I don’t usually do that for revisions, because I generally spend enough time after the first draft to know what the fuck’s gonna happen in the next draft. But this story feels like a lot of pressure, because anyone who’s read the rest of them (it will be the seventh story, not counting the shorts) deserves awesomeness. So add beats to the list of shit I ought to be doing right now.
Really, I’m kind of itching to record more video. Shh. Don’t fucking tell anyone, because it would really screw up my cred.
Right, then. I don’t fucking know. Maybe I’ll go see how all of self-publishing has exploded because someone misinterpreted an “aspiring author” tag to mean “self-published author” at the Romantic Time con. (Two separate tracks, people. Two separate tracks. I know because I looked at the pricing for that shit and couldn’t decide what I was, because I’d been self-publishing for all of five minutes at the time.) Isn’t it embarrassing when “your” people freak the fuck out and do awful things? Like waste a bunch of belligerent energy on a false problem? Never mind. I should be fucking writing.
Also, please sing along to the Sesame Street tune “Cooperation”: “Procrastination makes me happy!” Only it doesn’t. It really doesn’t.