I am a capricorn, the only horoscope sign I know about. We're a determined bunch, quietly competitive, always planned out, invariably prepared, thrown off balance when the unexpected uproots the prearranged. I have a brother who can fly on standby. This would not be a healthy choice for me. The uncertainty alone would take a few months off my life expectancy.
So with my present preoccupation, my novel Wife of the Gods published July 14, 2009, everything has been planned as much as possible. There was a list long ago, and there are items checked off, and some that remain. This signing here, that mailing there, this interview here, that blog there. Not that every author doesn't have a list like that. It's just that with me, there is a particular relishing of the LIST and its fulfillment. OCD, you say? Well, so? That's what this essay is about, right?
You need a little bit of that obsessive streak to write. Otherwise, how can you go from the first page to the next, to the next, and on until you have the whole book written? My publisher had a few deadlines for me, but most of them were set by me for myself, with great delight in beating the goal even if it near killed me. I compete against myself, and against others. Oh, yes, that studied nonchalance about book sales belies a fiery need to bring my novel to prominence and make it a #1 BS, and I don't mean Bull****. Ah, but you point out, that's one thing you can never plan for sure. Maybe not, but I sure can try.