by Kimberly A. Cook
This week I’m determined to get the final edited copy of my military romance fiction book “Mission: Tinderbox” out to my beta readers. What are beta readers? Dedicated hardcore friends/readers/fellow writers who take a final look to make sure it all makes sense and perhaps find a typo or two.
On my non-fiction book, I had eleven beta readers. They each found something different. Pretty amazing. Also amazing was taking the eleven printed manuscripts in binders on an editing retreat in the wilds of Goldendale, Washington to cat sit for my friends Gate Girl and her hubby. Three days, three cats, sixty acres, visiting deer and one biblical thunderstorm later I had all the edits compiled. Worked out great.
But it appears all those distractions I handled back then are nothing compared to the challenges of one Spec Ops Cat at home. Somehow he manages to show up at the right time to make the maximum impact on what I’m trying to do.
Whether he is napping on my manuscripts to edit, stepping into the bead box during play time or suddenly appearing from the mist to stand over my keyboard putting fur in my mouth, he arrives. Then he proceeds to actually step on a key and mess up the manuscript with a long line of zazazazazazazazaza that he did yesterday. How can one small cat be such a diversion?
With these challenges I’ve taken to rewarding myself before I complete goals these days, since that improved my motivation cleaning out the family home last month. I’ve discovered a new addiction too; glitter. So the glitter drawer is now full in the office/craft room and I still need to get this manuscript polished.
Perhaps by confessing in public I can make myself grind it out. Bought the three-ring binders and mailing boxes yesterday, so now all that is left is the final read, edit work, making copies and mailing.
Piece of cake.
Must be a glitter sale somewhere? Right?
Good luck! <3
I used to think catsitting would be a time to get reading or writing done. Now I know it’s just a time to get extra napping down. On the schedule of the cat. And figure out how to undo whatever bizarre set of computer instructions walking across the keyboard the cat has activated.