Writing, Procrastination is thy middle name.

I think I have a phobia.

And like all writers, I think I have to give it a name. A title. A brand of some sort. I'm calling it "putoffititus."

You see, for the past three months I've been struggling to finish the last book in my Red Hand Conspiracy series. No, that's not true. I've been avoiding finishing the last book in this series. Oh, I open the document every week, add a thousand words, go back and read over earlier chapters. Delete this. Add that. Play with it. Massage it here and there, but work hard at it? Nah.

Both my agent and editor are asking me how soon I can have Jazzbeat of Surrender completed. I'm at 43,000 words with only 50-52,000 words to go. If I'd buckle down, I could have it done in a month, or so.

My problem? I can't stay focused on it. Oh, I'm writing. Writing every day. I'm just not working on the right project. I've written and submitted a novella. Submitted and sold two short stories. One publisher has asked for another short story set in the same historical town. And my creative mind is chomping at the bit to forge ahead on that project.

I also entered the Golden Acorn Contest and took third place in their paranormal division--and I've never written paranormal before. I mean, sometimes I think I live a paranormal existence, but write it? No. Never. At least not until I was supposed to focus on Jazzbeat.

So what the heck is wrong?

Short attention span?

Lack of discipline?

No direction?

You see, I'm coming up on something I'm not sure I can handle realistically. I have to reveal the head of this group of terrorists that have run rampant in the first two books. In short, I've painted myself into a corner. I've hinted and alluded to who the person might be, but of course the real villian is someone else. And I'm waiting for the rascal to cooperate. As if a terrorist would. Right?

Book one, Mona Lisa's Room, takes place in Paris and a small seaside community on the Normandy Coast. Release date is November 9th. The back cover blurb is in the form of an email--

Gwen,

You won’t believe this email. I’m sitting in a French safe house, eating caviar and drinking champagne with handsome government agent, Niko Reynard. He’s wearing nothing but silk pajama bottoms and mega doses of sex appeal. I’m in big trouble, little sister. He’s kissed me several times and given me a foot massage that nearly caused spontaneous combustion. I'm feeling strangely virginal compared to the sexual prowess this thirty-year-old man exudes. 

When I came to Paris for a bit of adventure, I never imagined I’d foil a bombing attempt, karate-kick two men, and run from terrorists while wearing a new pair of stilettos. I met a German musician, a gay poet from Australia, and the most delightful older French woman.

Don’t worry. I’m safe…the jury’s still out on yummy Niko, though. The more champagne I drink, the less reserved I feel. What an unforgettable fortieth birthday!

Alyson

 

Book two takes place in Paris and Budapest and has no cover yet, but I can share the blurb of Rain is a Love Song.
 

When Gwen Morningstar and her daughter travel to Paris for the birth of her sister’s baby, both step into a quagmire of danger. Her daughter’s kidnapping and eventual rescue propel Gwen to join in the pursuit of the abductors, The Red Hand terrorist group. She’s determined to keep her daughter safe, even if it means traveling undercover to Budapest with counterterrorist agent, Jean-Luc LeFevre, a Frenchman with his own brand of justice—and danger. 

 

Jean-Luc’s assignment, working with Gwen, an American crime scene photographer with just enough training to get them killed, does not please him. She takes too many risks and drives him to distraction. Never mind the eye-tick she gives him every time she makes him angry. As his feelings for her grow, he’s determined to keep both Mother and daughter safe.

 

But can he, when the tentacles of The Red Hand are far-reaching, both abroad and in the States?

 

So now the time has come to put on my big girl writing pants and finish this project. No more side-trips to other storylines. What about you? Are you your own worst enemy at times?

$86,400.00

This month, I’m giving a ‘pep’ talk to all those procrastinators out there, and a good kick in the seat of the pants!
It’s been said many times if you want someone to be accountable for something, hit them in their pocket. People will always follow their money—especially in these bad economic times.
Close your eyes for a minute and imagine you just won $86,400.00 as the result of a contest. And each morning your bank will deposit another $86,400.00 into your private account for your use.

Obviously every prize has rules, just as any game has rules.
1. What you don't spend each day is forfeited to the bank. There's no transferring the money into some other account, and only you can spend it!
2. The bank can end the game without warning, and can tell you the game is over! As a matter of fact, it can close out that account and you won’t receive another dime.

So what would you personally do with the money knowing you had to spend it all each day?

You'd buy everything and anything you've ever wanted, right? Not just for yourself, but for everyone you love, right? You'd probably even donate it, because you couldn't possibly spend it all on yourself, right?


Okay, now consider this. If you put that $86,400 in seconds instead of money, you have your own magical bank.

Every one of us has in our possession, our own magical bank. Most of the time, we take it for granted.

So let’s apply the same rules as we did above.

Every morning, we're given those 86,400, only this time in seconds as a gift of life. Not using that time is lost forever. Sorry folks, but we don't get them back, and it's not credited to any account.

So what you didn't do today, because you procrastinated one more time, is lost forever. The good news though is tomorrow morning your seconds are again replenished, but you’ve already lost the previous days’ seconds. That’s the bank dissolving them . . . without warning.

SO, what will YOU do with your next 86,400 seconds? Will you follow your long awaited dreams by writing that story begging to be told? Will you finish that project you started ages ago promising you’d get to it, but never have? Will you take the bull by the horns and do it? Or will you allow another day to pass you by?

It’s a little different when you think of time in money vs. time, isn’t it? Gives you a clearer picture, doesn’t it?

So what will you do today?