"I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."
At the moment, I think I know how Douglas Adams may have felt when he said that. I have to admit, though, I'm not a big fan of the sound.
I don't like not doing what I promised to do, but as the year comes to a close, I have a deadline coming up on December 1, a deadine that I missed nearly a month ago (for which I thankfully got an extension), and another deadline on December 31. Fortunately, I've started on all of these projects—as well as a story that's not due until March, and wouldn't you know, that's the one that's coming along the easiest.
The nice thing about deadlines ("Wait," I hear you say, "there's something nice about deadlines?" Yes, there really is; trust me) is that I'm being forced to work on my discipline. If you're one of the three regular readers of my blog, you've probably heard me talk about discipline—usually referring to it as the thing I have very little of. That said, thanks to a long Thanksgiving weekend, I've been writing regularly every day. I've been using my typewriter because it seems to inspire a more consistent pace for me; plus, the tangible pleasure of seeing a stack of pages pile up on the desk next to me is something I'll always enjoy. The story I should have finished a month ago is more than halfway done (well, the first draft, at least), and I'm hoping to get the rest of it finished today. Then it's back to book #2 for a while.
I love what I do. I wish there were more time in the day to do it.