Sarah’s Writing Diary

May 14-15, 2008

10:00 AM
Word count: 0

Dear Diary,

Today is going to be a great day! I got up early, had my coffee, and I’m ready to rock! Let’s jump right into book 2 and make some progress. I’m hoping for 3,000 words today. Let’s do it!

2:00 PM
Word count: 17

Dear Diary,

I was feeling a bit stifled after a few hours of staring at the screen, so Alex and I went for a walk and had lunch at a little diner called Pop. I had French toast and the waitress was so old school and cute with a bun and glasses and a pencil stuck in her hair. Anyway, now I’m all refueled and energized and ready to write. Rock on!

3:00 PM
Word count: 19

Diary, I know I know I know I know, but General Hospital is on! I haven’t seen it in 15 years! Carly’s 12-year-old son Michael is in an irreversible coma, which means he’ll be back next year, inexplicably 21 years old and looking for revenge. Oh, no no no no no. I can’t get sucked in. I really should be working on my book. But… wait… whatever happened to Jagger?

4:01 PM
Word count: 18, no 19

Yo Diary,

Yes, I must get serious. I’m staring at work in progress. I’m creating and destroying worlds and people and love, all inside my mind. But I’m stuck on a word. I stare at it for several minutes, then delete. It’s an adverb, after all. A modifier. But a good one. I retype it. Delete it. Retype it. Decisions, decisions.

5:12 PM
Word count: 31, woot!

Seriously? I need to sign in to Facebook and make sure Mom hasn’t posted any additional pictures of me posing in ugly sweater and wig. BRB.

5:13 PM
Word count: 31

Damn it. Must consider changing name on Facebook. But not now. Now, I must focus.

8:47 PM
Word count: 39

Tell me something, Diary. How can it be that this boy doesn’t have a nickname yet1? What am I doing with my days of leisure if not honing my craft? How come I can’t make up (or troll friends’ ideas for) a stupid effing nickname? Am I losing my creative touch?

8:59 PM
Word count: 39, but listen to this!

Dear Diary,

WTF is wrong with Tyra? I mean, is Whitney really considered “plus sized?” Really? WTF? Well, I like chocolate cake, you know. And if Whitney can do it, so can I. Plus-sized writers unite!

9:01 PM
Word count: 39 (still, yes, I know, you’re not my mother!)

Dear Diary,

Simon Cowell is trying to sabotage me! I have work to do, can’t he understand? Wait, why is David Cook crying? Don’t cry, David! You’ll be okay! I… ugh! Listen, Dave, stop distracting me with your man-tears and tender rock star ballads!

10:31 PM
Word count: 104

Type type type. Type. Delete. Type type.

Are you happy now, Diary? I’m working.

11:47 PM
Word count: 239

Dear Diary,

I am brilliant. Oh, people will line up around the block to buy this book, my sophomore effort, my magnum opus, just you wait! Sweet beautiful puppies, I have found my calling and it has found me!

See, Diary, I knew I could do it. When it comes to words, I’m a literary top model. I “brung” it. I’m fierce.

12:01 AM
Word count: 109

Stupid, worthless drivel! I will have to pay readers to buy this book! I’m useless! I’m a talentless, brainless, chocolate-cake-eating plus-sized HACK! Delete! Delete! Delete!

12:15 AM
Word count: 119

Diary, check this out. Someone actually named their twin babies after characters in Stephenie Meyer’s TWILIGHT. Really, if someone called me and told me they’d just named their babies Anna and Frankie because of my book, I’d be like, “So do you want those solid gold commemorative copies hand-engraved or laser? And also, I… I… I think I love you.”

12:22 AM
Word count: 119

Diary, I need your event-planning advice. Is it too early to start planning a launch party for TWENTY BOY SUMMER? OMG I could do a super cute beach thing with adorable sparkly ocean-themed evites and mai tais with umbrellas and little candies that look like beach glass and, and, and…

Diary, do you think people will show?

1:07 AM
Word count: 121

Dearest Diary,

I don’t know how to say this gently, without adverbs, so I’ll just come right out with it. I think we need to break up. It’s not you, it’s me. And by me, I mean you. Our correspondence is just too time-consuming; it’s taking me away from my contractual obligations to complete my second book. As you know, my days are packed with a grueling writing and research schedule that leaves no time for frivolous banter.

I’ve appreciated your friendship, but really, it’s for the best that we just move on.

PS. I hope you’ll still come to my launch party.


1. Thank you all for your wonderful nickname suggestions. Each (well, okay, not each. But some. Well more like one…) is being carefully evaluated and tested within the manuscript. Stay tuned for final decision.

Friends, Writers, Models, Love.

I somehow caused a minor freak-out among you Coloradoans in an email about my Web site last night when I casually mentioned that I’d stopped sleeping in preparation for our move back to NY (you know, since Denver is such a shiny happy morning person town and NY is full of vampires who never sleep). Everyone – I mean everyone – in the mile-high called or emailed or in one case (*ahem* TRISH) showed up at my cube for a personal lashing.

Let me clarify that we’re not moving tomorrow or the day after that or even in 2007. We’re moving in, like, April. But still… 6 months will go fast (especially when you’re a hallucinating, sleep-deprived zombie). According to the secret little calendar I keep in my desk drawer to mark off the time left in the office, I’ve only got 110 BIC (butt in chair) days to go. You might wanna get in line to start showin’ the love soon.

Enough about morning people. For our New York friends and family, please sign up for your rotation in the Freeloader Support Network (FSN). By donating floor or bed space for just one week to a month (don’t let us limit your generosity!), you, too, can take part in this exciting, ground-breaking experiment whereby Alex and I will live rent-free for an entire year on a rotational, revolving basis until all of our once-cherished friends grow weary from our constant presence. In return for your gracious hospitality, we’ll write your name on a temporary honorary notebook-paper-plaque in permanent, licorice-scented magic marker for prominent, short-term display in each of our lovely host homes. As an added incentive, if you throw in food, we’ll draw hearts in cherry-scented marker around your name!!!

*Hearts!*

NaNoWriMoI really think I’m on to something here. Anyway, while you’re checking your calendars and your spouses’ tolerance level for uninvited, unemployed, unshowered (but loyal and loveable) guests, please join me in wishing all of this year’s participating NaNoWriMo authors (speaking of unshowered) the best of luck! I wish I could join in, but I’ve been working on book 2 and can’t get off track. Plus… America’s Next Top Model. Oh, don’t tell Alex I said that. It’s this dirty little secret between us. He knows the show makes me feel entirely inadequate as a person, which is why I love it, but whatever. Just because I put on glitter lip gloss and ask him about boob jobs and leg extensions while crying in front of the mirror during commercials does not mean I shouldn’t watch the most intellectually-stimulating show of our time.

Besides, there’s a Web site. Tap tap tap.

“What are you doing, Bims?” (that’s what he calls me)
“Uhm, working on those book two revisions…”
“Oh, okay. I’m glad you turned off that trashy show.”

He pretends he doesn’t know. He pretends he doesn’t want to watch the show himself. He’s very sweet that way.