In 2012, I finished one novel, wrote a new one and published an old one. That might sound ambitious to some, but it’s not. I should be writing three new novels a year with time left over for things like dune buggies and pogo sticks.
For me, most of my 2012 hours at the computer were spent babbling on Facebook or writing back and forth with people about absolutely nothing. Even as I was doing it, I was disgusted with myself for squandering so much of this stingy allotment of hours.
In 2013, I need to write novels. Write them and engage writing’s ugly, dull-witted cousin, marketing. Blech. But it’s got to be done whereas babbling incessantly on Facebook does not. See what I’m saying?
So my request to you is this: If you see me spending long hours on the Interwebs, talking about lofty matters such as the content of my belly button, please. Remind me of this pledge and kick my ass as much as necessary.
I’d do it for you.