The eighth month has come
And summer will soon be done.
Thirty days less and leaves will turn
My pen silent and paper yearn.
Words unspoken and story untold,
No one will hear my tale unfold.
Ink drying, paper shriveling,
The heroes left alone and shivering.
For I have neglected them, fool I am,
Despite for them the plans I had.
Should I leave them quiet still,
Arden Falconer and Tristan Mills,
Then no one could love them as I do,
So a countdown I’ll create, and make them true.
The clock is ticking, the pen waiting,
And I’ll dive in now, and get creating.
~~~
Or, in the non-rhyming version: I NEED TO START SOME HEAVY WRITING BEFORE SUMMER IS GONE. I’d like to finishing the second draft by Halloween, and making this absolute date should — hopefully — keep me on the straight and narrow.
The Doctor is right. As usual.
Do you find you slack in your writing unless you have an unwavering deadline? What do you do to keep yourself on track? Happy writing!
