Re-setting

I'm tired.

The last fews months have been long on trips to take and retrieve children, support calls at work for things that had to be resolved right now (often because the user waited too long to start the process), and the need to produce more, better-quality data, quicker, while doing other things, too.

In other words, everyday life. Don't get me wrong. There's been nothing major going wrong, it's just been kind of a grind.

It strikes me that the first novel has to be the hardest. Maybe the second or third, or any novel you write while having mommy or daddy duty and a full-time job. And yet, if you look at early novels by people, and the lengths they've gone to get them done, you have to acknowledge the accomplishment.

But what happens when you need a reset, when your focus has drifted, and you need to get back to the basics? Given the rest of life, how singular does your focus have to be? Can you write and market a book while marketing a writers conference and considering whether you need to find another job? Can you do it while acting as care-giving to a loved one and working fulltime? Can you do it while major changes occur in your life?

The answer, of course, is yes. You can do all that if you choose to do it. By focusing on what's important and arranging everything else around the big rocks. (As in, put the big rocks in the jar first and the little rocks will fit around them.) By grinding through the times when energy is low and demands are high until the equation changes. By having faith in the future and your ability.

What's on your MP3 player?

(I'll get back to Twhirl. I promise.)

When the children are home, our house is the place to be. And when the doorbell rings, Max the Wonderdog feels it's his duty to announce the doorbell as only he can, just in case we didn't hear it. And then there's the inevitable yelling match between my two lovely children about computer time or who has to empty the dishwasher or whatever indignities they're heaping on each other.

Sometimes the only way to write is to seal myself off from everyone in the world. And because I don't have an invitation to the Vice President's secret location or a lifetime membership to Yaddo, I have to make due. Fortunately, I own an MP3 player and a reasonable set of earbuds.

Stephen King often writes to the hardest of rock music. Others are inclined differently. Some must even stoop to country music or contemporary rap (abbreviated as c-rap). For me, whose musical tastes are wonderful and eclectic, here's a sampling what's on my MP3 player:

U2 (Almost anything)

Dropkick Murphys (Kiss Me, I'm ****faced is my favorite. Yes, I have deep-seated issues.)

Electric Light Orchestra (Almost anything, but I like Do Ya)

Kansas (Almost anything)

Talking Heads (Almost anything)

NFL Films music

Patsy Cline

AC/DC

Chicago (earlier material)

Brian Setzer Orchestra

Sinatra (The Way You Look Tonight)

Genesis (I tend to like Phil better than Peter, but respect you if you disagree)

INXS

The Cars (I like the later stuff, but the earlier stuff is great, too)

John Denver (Looking for Space has amazing lyrics)

Paul McCartney/Wings and the Beatles

I'm fairly certain that my MP3 player is the only place where you can hear Patsy Cline followed by AC/DC, then Johnny Cash covering Depeche Mode followed by the ? and the Mysterians and the Hives.

Does music work for you? If so, what kind of music?

And would you like an Australian sheep dog who likes to announce the doorbell and gets scared at thunderstorms?