I’ll be completely honest with you: I’m not totally sure if I have OCD or not, but it sure feels that way sometimes. I make sure the toys and books in my sons room are stacked and placed just so, and forget about my insistent neatness at work. Then there are the little things that add up: how I dress my son, the way I wrap a gift, how I load the dishwasher, where I put things in my car or my purse. So why oh why are my notes all over the damn place?
I’m going through some WIPs and I’m finding all these notes. I’ve got outlines and alternate outlines and alternates of the alternate outlines, or random scenes typed out in their own document with no idea of where they came from or where they should go. This is what happens when I let a story fester too much. Sure, my characters grow in my head to exactly what I want, but their stories start to overlap and mix up and confuse me. There’s too much and it’s quickly getting lost.
So, I’m buckling down. I’m reaching inside for the obsessive-compulsive me to get to work. I often find myself cleaning up after others: my son, sometimes my husband (he’s usually pretty good about picking up after himself), my co-workers, or the random trash that ends up on my front lawn from drive-bys of the lazy and inconsiderate. It’s about time I cleaned up after myself for once. If writing is my passion, I owe it to show it some.
Wish me luck. 😉