Deadlines are a girl's best friend

by Emmie Dark

Right now I'm working on my fifth published book, but I still feel (probably rightly so!) like a total newbie. Each day as a published author seems to bring a new piece of information, or challenge, or discovery that I need to take in.

My newest discovery is what it's like to write a book while a deadline is hanging over my head. Don't get me wrong -- I've absolutely had to meet deadlines for a long time. In my working life in PR and communication, deadlines are a daily fact of life. So I understand deadlines. I get them.

But I've been fortunate enough that up until this book, I've been well along the way to being finished writing the book (or, indeed, already finished) by the time it's been picked up by a publisher. This book is the first time I've had a deadline before I've had "The End" (or even a good idea of what "The End" might look like).

It's actually kind of fun. I know, you were expecting me to talk about stress and tearing my hair out, but it hasn't really been like that. Instead I've just been very disciplined. I'm pretty disciplined to start with (I think all authors have to be, really) but having a deadline means I know exactly what I have to have done, by when, in order to get there.

Perhaps I'm just a structure-loving person? Another discovery I've made on this published author journey!

And on that note, I'd better get on and get some writing done today. That deadline is breathing down my neck!

The morning after...

Meh.

by Emmie Dark

I think I need to poll writers to see how they all feel on the day after deadline day. 

I think the poll would be multiple choice, and I think the options for answering would be along the lines of:

• Quite sad.
• Very sad.
• Extremely sad.
• Am crying into my fish fingers and custard right now.

Is it just me, LoveCatters, or is it a writerly thing? To me, it’s kind of like saying goodbye to house guests. You know, the really good kind of houseguests: the ones that do the dishes, provide entertaining company, and don’t make a mess in the bathroom. You stand in the driveway, waving goodbye as they back their car out into the street, and then you go back inside. But something’s missing. The house is too quiet. There’s a subtle kind of energy missing.

It’s a futile feeling, because of course my characters haven’t really gone anywhere. I could just open that document and visit with them all again instantly. But that special time has passed – the time when it’s just me and them, when I get to learn all about them and play with their lives like a devious, capricious god.

When I visit them next time, with my editor’s and copy editor’s revisions, it’ll be different. It won't be just us, and what will be happening will be far more "work" than those lovely first weeks we spent together discovering what was going to happen. 

I've just said "farewell" to my biggest book ever. It involves a wedding, dogs, vampires, Twitter, household accidents, a 1970 Ford Falcon XY GT, and quite a bit of steamy hawt stuff. I always love whichever book I'm working on at the time best. But I really really love this one*. 

And I've hit send. It's off to my editor. And now I'm here, at my 'puter, wondering what to do. The fact that I have a "to do" list as long as my arm filled with all the things I didn't do while I spent every waking moment writing (and some of my sleeping moments too), seems, well, irrelevant. Thank goodness I had you guys to come and chat to. Otherwise I don't know what I would have done! 

Luckily, Melbourne town has put on some sunshine today. I think I might peek out, blinking hard, and see what the outside world has got up to while I've been locked inside the deadline cave. Maybe go find a cup of tea somewhere in the sun. And then, maybe -- if I get really desperate -- have a go at attacking that "to do" list. 

Wish me luck! 

*Watch me say the same thing about whatever I write next in a couple of months' time!