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| Author, Evelyn Cullet |
Because of a comment Patricia made on Marja’s Mystery Blog
about how life gets in the way of writing, and I agreed with her, she invited
me to be a guest blogger and to write about the subject.
There are so many things in life that can get in the way of writing.
The Internet for one. By the time I’ve answered my emails, searched for a few
new recipes, and visited all the websites I’m a member of, hours of writing
time have passed and I’m usually late making lunch or dinner, occasionally even
breakfast.
Every morning I wake up determined to get some writing done
that day, but my husband has his own agenda, (He’s retired, too.) which always
supersedes mine, because as he puts it, “You can write anytime.” Oh sure I can,
but not when he stays on the computer for hours searching for... whatever he
searches for, not really sure what that is most of the time. Or he comes into
the room after I’ve been on the computer for what I think has only been a few
minutes, but in reality has actually been a couple of hours, and says, “Why
don’t you take a break?” just as I’m in the middle of a great idea for the
climax of my novel. And then he’ll sit down and talk to me about something he
considers interesting, but I couldn’t care less about. I lose my train of
thought, and that’s that.
Mostly, I’m my own worst enemy, because I’m not disciplined
enough to set the time aside. There are all kinds of things that need to be
taken care of before I can sit down to write. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman.
Men don’t have this problem. They write whenever they want, but when I do, I feel
guilty if there are dishes in the sink or the floor needs to be washed or the
laundry isn’t done.
Recently, we had our telephone number hijacked. It sounds
like an odd thing to happen, but there are criminals who hijack phone numbers
and sell them to companies that make burner cells. At least that’s what the
fraud department at my phone company told me. To make a long story short, I
spent 28 hours over a period of two weeks on my cell in contact with my phone
company rep. trying to get my landline number back. (Did I mention that my husband is a hard of
hearing, so I always have to make these types of calls.) I finally did get it
back, but it was a huge time waster. More writing time lost. And don’t think that
hadn’t crossed my mind as I was on hold for most of that time.
And then there are a lot of
minor things. Appliance break downs, the garden needs tending, the dog needs to
be walked, doctors appointments, dentist appointments, grocery shopping... the
list goes on. I feel like I’m racing the clock every day. It’s funny how time
passes more quickly as you get older. It seems like you’ve just eaten breakfast
when it’s time to make lunch, and after the lunch things have been cleared up,
it’s nearly time to make dinner.
I don’t watch much television.
Some days I don’t watch it at all, unless there’s a good, old mystery movie on,
or a program like Bones or reruns of Castle where I might learn something
new, or get a story idea. And even then, I feel guilty because I should have
been writing.
When the telephone rings, I
cringe and hope it’s not someone who wants to talk for the next hour, when all
I want to do is write. Which reminds me of a blog post I once read about writers.
It stated that we’re busy but flexible, sociable but focused. We find it
difficult to be there for needy people, as our timetables don’t allow for it.
But on the flip side, when you don’t call us for three weeks, that’s okay. In
fact, we probably appreciate it, especially when we’ve got deadlines to meet.
I couldn’t agree more.
Thanks for letting me vent, Pat.
This may start a new trend: A weekly blog about how life gets in the way of
writing. Just joking, but oh, the commiseration!
I’m currently working on my next
mystery, The Tarkington Treasure, the
final novel in the Charlotte Ross Mystery Series. Charlotte’s ex-fiancé is back in town, and it
appears they may finally get back together, except for one small problem—he’s wanted
for murder.
Here’s a short excerpt from the first chapter of, The Tarkington Treasure. (Coming this fall)
She picked up the
flowers she’d left on the table and began arranging the colorful, assorted
blooms. But footsteps in the kitchen made her stop dead still to listen.
With her heart pounding,
she hesitated a moment before she slammed the door open and looked around. No
one was there.
Outside, the sky had
darkened, and the rain fell in torrents. Whipped by the wind, it beat hard
against the windows as the warmth drained out of her. Shivering, she abandoned
the flowers and went to the library. As she crouched on the hearth to build a
fire, the suspicion grew that someone, who wasn’t her cousin, was in the house
with her.
Charlotte reproached herself. It’s only the wind and the rain playing
tricks on my imagination. But second thoughts had her reaching for her cell
phone. She searched her pockets before she remembered it was on the dining room
table. Darting for the door, she froze at the threshold. What if...?
No matter how she
tried, she couldn’t bring herself to leave that room. So she closed the door
and went back to the fire, which somehow failed to warm her. Grabbing a
fireplace poker, she scrunched deep into the leather wing chair while keeping
her gaze glued to the door, in case someone tried to open it from the other
side.
The wind blew harder,
whistling a sinister tune through the hollow eaves, as the rain swept down in
sheets against the old house. Sitting there, gripped by a paralysis of fear,
she waited.
About the Author
Evelyn
Cullet has been an author since high school when she wrote short stories. She
began her first novel while attending college later in life and while working
in the offices of a major soft drink company. Now, with early retirement, she
can finally write full time. As a life-long mystery buff, she was a former
member of the Agatha Christie Society, and is a current member of the National
Chapter of Sisters In Crime. She writes mysteries with warm romance and a
little humor. When she’s not writing mysteries, reading them or reviewing them,
she hosts other authors and their work on her writer’s blog. www.evelyncullet.com/blog. She also plays the piano, is an amateur lapidary,
and an organic gardener.
