Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Why Writer's Should Never Clean House with Pepper O'Neal.
Today we welcome author Pepper O'Neal who is currently touring with her book, Blood Fest, Chasing Destiny. Pepper is sharing today why writer's should never clean house, comment today for one chance to win, then she will be back on the 15th for some fun facts and another chance for you to win an e-copy of her fantastic book. So enough of my babbling, Welcome Pepper and you can now have the floor.....
Writers Should Never Clean House!
Why? you ask. Well, for one thing we can’t be trusted. At least I can’t. I’m a writer. I write. If I’m not chained to my computer, banging on my keyboard, I’m writing in my head. Now, I can write in my head while driving to the store or going to a doctor’s appointment. Writing in my head and driving seem to work very well for me. House cleaning and writing in my head? Nope, doesn’t work at all.
Case in point is the time I opened the dishwasher to put in the soap before I started it and found the synopsis and first three chapters of my WIP laying on top of the dishes from the previous night’s spaghetti dinner. What complicated scene or plot point I was working out in my head when I did that, I don’t have a frigging clue.
Then there was the time I searched high and low in my office, trying to find my reading glasses. Thinking perhaps I left them by the sink when I went to refill my glass of water—it was water, honest—I headed for the kitchen and found the ice cream sitting on the counter. Not only didn’t I remember putting it there, but I don’t even like Rocky Road. And when I opened the freezer to put it back, what did I find? You guessed it. My glasses were saving the ice cream’s spot on the freezer shelf. Again, what I could have possibly been writing at the time I did this completely escapes me.
Another reason writers should never clean house is that it never accomplishes anything. When I revised a chapter while working on my new book, Blood Fest: Chasing Destiny, I knew without a doubt if I came back to that chapter a week or even a month later, it would still be revised, all the words exactly where I left them. Not true of my house. I can clean it until it’s spotless, look up from my computer in a day or two, and it’s a mess again. How the hell does that happen? My editor tells me it’s a bad practice to keep repeating myself in my writing. But if I do it with housework, won’t it become a habit? Best not to risk it.
Now, every once in a while, when I absolutely can’t stand it anymore, I have no choice but to clean it. So then I use shortcuts—that way I can get back to the important stuff, like writing. For example, I have found the easiest and fastest way to dust is to walk around the house and blow on the furniture. It simple, somewhat effective, and doesn’t require me to track down the duster, which is probably stashed in the refrigerator, anyway.
Besides, since the house is already a disaster, why should I even bother to clean it? My significant other’s in the military, and every available surface is covered in army stuff piled on top of army stuff. If I do eventually manage to clean off an area, he just brings in more army junk and fills it back up again. He also a car buff, so any place that isn’t heaped with army shit is stuffed with car crap. I have a beautiful glass and oak coffee table in my living room. At least I think I do. I used to. I haven’t actually seen it in months since it’s buried under a mountain of...man stuff. It’s gotten so bad that when he leaves on a field mission and takes most of the duffle bags and big stuff with him, the cats have so much more room to play, they think we’ve moved to a bigger house.
However, I do have a plan. I’m a house plant fanatic. I love them, and I’m always finding another one that just has to come home with me. So, I figure I’ll just fill my house up with so many plants, eventually they’ll spread and cover all the piles—sort of like those evergreen blackberry vines that will grow to cover everything, including you if you stand still long enough—so even though I won’t have any more room in my house, at least I won’t have to look at the mess.
A struggling private detective in Los Angeles, Chase Alcott has no idea about her unique genetic makeup. So when she takes on a new client—an old man with ulterior motives—Chase is unaware of the danger she will soon face. Traveling to England to solve a mysterious murder at the request of her new client, Chase encounters terrifying creatures she thought only existed in her nightmares—creatures bent on her surrender or destruction—only to find out she’s one of them. Caught in a web of evil and deception after learning some terrifying truths about her long dead parents, Chase doesn’t know who to believe. Does she dare trust the enigmatic Roman, a man with dark secrets of his own, when she can no longer even trust herself?
About Pepper O'Neal:
Award-winning author, Pepper O’Neal is a researcher, a writer, and an adrenalin junkie. She has a doctorate in education and spent several years in Mexico and the Caribbean working as researcher for an educational resource firm based out of Mexico City. During that time, she met and befriended many adventurers like herself, including former CIA officers and members of organized crime. Her fiction is heavily influenced by the stories they shared with her, as well her own experiences abroad.