A candid look at a day in the life of a writer.

by John Rachel

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Posted by johnrachel
With my book, The Man Who Loved Too Much, Book 1: Archipelago __ my sixth novel! __ shooting up the charts due to a fire sale on the ebook version, people often ask me:

"John, how do you get inspired to write?"

First, I turn on the fan. Then I suddenly realize I that forgot to take out the garbage. So I do that. Of course, now I see there's all sorts of gunk in the bottom of the garbage container from the tomatoes that went bad and the mushrooms that turned to slime. So I have to clean up that mess.

Finally, I pour a cup of coffee and sit down to write. Oops! Forgot to check my FB account. Whoa!! 87 new notices. People loved that video I posted of a kitten chasing a rhinoceros. Hmm. Bad news. It looks like over 30 people deleted me as a friend. Cold! What did I do? Could it have been the blog I wrote about Donald Trump being a pedophile?

I'm exhausted. Writing sure takes it out of me.

I decide I need a nap. I'll get 20 winks, wake up fresh, ready to really roll!

I try to sleep. But they are slaughtering a yak next door, beating it to death with garden rakes. You'd think they could come up with a more humane way to kill the thing. Jeeez!

I take a sip of wine from a newly opened bottle to try to relax. I decide to just finish the whole thing off.

The next few hours are a blank. I wake up in the bathtub. I'm hugging a bag of fertilizer. The doorbell is ringing.

I run to see who it is. Ah! The post man. My new Fiction Writing software has arrived. Excellent! This could be the shot in the arm my career needs.

I spend the rest of the day trying to install the program. My Windows laptop keeps giving me error messages.

The library catalog file 'clusterfck.dll' is missing. Please reinstall operating system.

After five hours of this, I am famished!

I head down to the drive-thru window for Magic Rainbow Happy Luck. It's Chinese fast food. But they refuse to serve me because I'm on a bicycle. I go inside. Everything is in Chinese. I order something by pointing. They bring me monkey entrails on a croissant. Not very appetizing.

This would be a total waste of time, except thinking ahead, I brought my computer. Munching away, being careful to keep the blood and grease from dripping into my keyboard, I begin . . .

"Once upon a time, there was a large tree in the middle of an island. A boy of eleven years old leaned against it. A stranger approached him from behind. The boy turned. The man was wearing a 'Donald Trump for President' button."


Now we're getting somewhere.

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