Day in the Life is an author feature here on Ali's Bookshelf, its where I feature an author that shows us what their life is truly like. So today, we have author CL Parker showcasing her day with us.
A Day In The Life Of An Author
I thought this was a really important
one because readers need to know what goes on behind the scenes to really
appreciate the amount of work that goes into writing a book.
The first thing you should know is that
I’m not in this for the money. I’m an entertainer by nature with a vivid
imagination. Okay, so maybe I’m a little on the insane side. After all,
non-existent people talk to me from a non-existent world, and then all these
moving pictures flash through my mind. The ability to paint those pictures
through words for others to see is apparently a big neon sign screaming for me
to call myself an author. That’s what I’ve been told, anyway, so that’s what I
do. Hey, I’m just relieved that I’m not actually schizophrenic. Not that
there’s anything wrong with that.
I work what “they” call a “real” job to bring
home the bacon, and I’m now a single mother carrying the load of all the daily
functionality of my family, which doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for
writing. What it does do, however, is really pile on the stress. Because guess
what? I have a contract and deadlines associated with that contract. *gasp*
It’s cool, though; the tick I’ve developed is only a teeny tiny one, but I’m
working on making it a full-blown spasm because my motto is the bigger, the
better. Yeah, baby. *waggles brows* Just check out the descriptions of the men
in my stories. But I digress.
To give you a better understanding of my
life, let me bore you with the details of how my day goes. I wake up at five in
the morning from Monday through Friday, get myself ready for work, and then
wake my boys up to get them ready for school. Then I make lunches for everyone,
sign off on daily charts, feed them breakfast, and then get them off to school.
Sounds just like any other mother’s morning, right? (Oh, wait . . . I forgot to
mention that I shower and brush my teeth. That’s an important detail. Wouldn’t
want you to think I’m a skeez.)
Then, I take myself to work, where I am
a retirement counselor (by phone) for eight hours a day. *cue cracking whip* Yes, ma’am . . . May I have another, please?
After that, I pick up the kids and head home – do not pass go; do not collect
$200. This is the part where I should prepare dinner, go over homework
assignments, straighten the house, do the laundry, pay bills, etc., right?
Wrong. What happens at my house is that I go straight home, ask my boys how
their day was, cut them off mid-sentence, and hurriedly whip up whatever they
want for dinner. Surprisingly, these are fairly healthy choices. Peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches are healthy, right? Then, I plant myself behind yet
another desk and yet another computer. You should know that I’m OCD like a mofo
over my desk. Okay, so maybe not this week because it’s been a madhouse around
here, but any other time it’s “a place for everything, and everything in its
place.”
Once situated at my desk with a glass of
iced tea (to chase the shots of Patron) and a pack of cigarettes (for those
really hot scenes I lurv to write) – yes, I smoke; don’t judge me; I swear I’m
going to quit someday – the real work can begin. Emails have to be checked and
answered, because I’m in demand like that, and the whole world is going to come
to an end if I don’t resolve whatever crisis developed since I checked my
account from my phone just ten minutes before. Besides, maybe . . . just maybe,
Jensen Ackles decided to send me nudie pictures of himself per my request. No,
I’m not a stalker. Okay, maybe just a little.
Social networks have to be checked and
responded to because my readers are the bomb-diggity and they deserve my
undivided attention. I am being completely serious here. I adore my readers,
and I dare anyone to ever say otherwise, ‘cause them’s fighting words and I can
get downright scrappy if I have to.
Once that’s done, then I get to write. Whew!
Long-winded, aren’t I?
Currently, I’m writing about eight
thousand words a week, while trying my best to get the news out about my published
work, attending scheduled signings and interviews, and trying like hell to
still meet my deadline. Oh, and those “Mommy, I need . . .” moments are
a’plenty as well, which is just perfect for those times when I’m in the writing
groove. I’m absolutely being facetious here. There’s just nothing like writing,
“He unbuttoned his pants and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” to
really throw you out of the mood. Can I just say that I hate that song, It’s Peanut Butter Jelly Time? Because I
really, REALLY do. Great, now it’s stuck in my head again. *head-desk*
As for a social life? Hah! I have none.
My family and friends have all but given up on me. They understand my hectic
schedule though, and most times, they even call to remind me to eat. Yes, I
forget to eat, which doesn’t quite explain why I have more curves than that
road in The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo
Drift. Ah, yes, I remember . . . I’m sitting on my bodacious booty for
about twelve hours out of the day. Yep. That’ll do it. Well, at least it’s
properly cushioned, and you know what they say, “More cushion for the pushin’.”
*snort* Right, like that ever happens.
I know how this sounds, but trust me, I
am NOT complaining. I love my life as an author. I’m just getting nekked and
sharing my life with you, beautiful people. Ha! Now you’re not only humming It’s Peanut Butter Jelly Time, but
you’re also imagining me naked, aren’t you? You’re welcome.
But one might ask, “Shazbot, C.L.! Is it
really worth it?” The answer to that is, yes! I really do believe it’s worth
it. Why? Because I believe in my characters. Because I believe in the story
they have to tell. Because I believe in the message behind that story. Because
I love what I’m doing, and I don’t know how I would ever survive without doing
it. For those few hours of writing time, I can forget all about the hustle and
bustle of life, the mounting responsibilities, the heartache of the losses I’ve
endured, and just live vicariously through a make-believe character’s eyes in a
make-believe world.
Besides, if I don’t purge them from my
system, they’re just going to sit there and fester until I’m strapped up and
rocking back and forth in a padded cell. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?
Until next time . . . Have you hugged
your author today?
FLYAS!
~CLP~
