Write Lightning is a blog from writer Deb Thompson.
Everyone is welcome here.
(Some links or topics may not be completely kid-appropriate.)
Everyone is welcome here.
(Some links or topics may not be completely kid-appropriate.)
Thu, Nov 06 2003
A Clean House Is The Sign Of An Unwritten Novel
I was on call as a substitute judge for an essay contest today, but didn't have to go, so I played at making some buttons, worked on a short story revision, made cream of cauliflower soup, and sent out two birthday greetings and some jokes to someone who's recuperating from an unfortunate fall. I never did get the vacuuming done. I admire people who think cleaning is a hobby. I forget to clean things. I can dust a whole room and just forget to do certain surfaces. I thought this cleaning technician must have a very clean house and a very dull life, but maybe cleaning appeals to her sense of comfort. Most of us don't have the luxury (or the inclination) to spend four hours every day cleaning our homes. And for those of us who live in small homes and have to keep research files and books, the challenge to keep things neat is overwhelming. Everytime I sit down to read one of those articles that claims to lead me to de-clutter my house, the first thing I run across is a hint that starts with something insane such as, "Take that spare closet and turn it into a home office center." I don't know about your place, but there are no "spare closets" just sitting around unused in a post World War II California bungalow.
I'm sure it's just a matter of putting these things into perspective. If you're an accountant who likes things to be precise and tidy, a dust-free, organized home (and home office) are probably at the top of your priority list. I noticed that when writer Connie Shelton wrote about finding time to write, she didn't mention having the bathroom towels folded into neat rows, or color-coordinating the Tupperware, or chasing down dust. You know, I'll bet that's why they call those paper covers on books "dust" jackets. It all makes perfect sense now.
posted at: 20:42 | category: /Writing Life | link to this entry
I was on call as a substitute judge for an essay contest today, but didn't have to go, so I played at making some buttons, worked on a short story revision, made cream of cauliflower soup, and sent out two birthday greetings and some jokes to someone who's recuperating from an unfortunate fall. I never did get the vacuuming done. I admire people who think cleaning is a hobby. I forget to clean things. I can dust a whole room and just forget to do certain surfaces. I thought this cleaning technician must have a very clean house and a very dull life, but maybe cleaning appeals to her sense of comfort. Most of us don't have the luxury (or the inclination) to spend four hours every day cleaning our homes. And for those of us who live in small homes and have to keep research files and books, the challenge to keep things neat is overwhelming. Everytime I sit down to read one of those articles that claims to lead me to de-clutter my house, the first thing I run across is a hint that starts with something insane such as, "Take that spare closet and turn it into a home office center." I don't know about your place, but there are no "spare closets" just sitting around unused in a post World War II California bungalow.
I'm sure it's just a matter of putting these things into perspective. If you're an accountant who likes things to be precise and tidy, a dust-free, organized home (and home office) are probably at the top of your priority list. I noticed that when writer Connie Shelton wrote about finding time to write, she didn't mention having the bathroom towels folded into neat rows, or color-coordinating the Tupperware, or chasing down dust. You know, I'll bet that's why they call those paper covers on books "dust" jackets. It all makes perfect sense now.
posted at: 20:42 | category: /Writing Life | link to this entry
