It seems to be one of those weeks. What with deadlines, a few minor health issues, and the holiday, I’m day late in my thinking. To me, this is Tuesday. I’m not worth much. In fact, it is one p.m. and I’m still in my jammies. Of course, being a writer, I have the right to go to work in my PJs any time I feel like it. Other folks get casual Friday, to wear jeans and tees. Writers get PJ Wednesday. Or any other PJ day of the week we want. A few other perks?
Pets on the job. It is relaxing to have my critters around.
Snacks and lunch and tea are in the room next door. You know—in the kitchen.
I can do household chores while I’m waiting for the next scene to jell in my mind. I can shower, take or make personal phone calls, get an exercise break, whatever. Even take a nap. I call it creative procrastination. It really does help with getting the mind free from plot tangles and back to work.
I know writers who drink on the job. They don’t have to worry the boss will fuss, or that they’ll have to call a cab for the ride home. I don’t know how much work they get done after the first few bottles or drinks, but they don’t get arrested for public drunkenness. I’m guessing that for them, that is a perk.
Don’t have to comb my hair or put on makeup.
Don’t have to answer the phone if I’m in a too-good-to-stop spot.
Lunch with the hubby. Love that part!
Yes, there are bad parts to being a writer. The five-page-long, single-spaced, rewrite letter on Gwen got yesterday Rapid Descent is one. Does the mscpt need to be rewritten? Heck yeah. But it isn’t what I’d call a perk. And the tendency towards spreading writer’s butt from sitting too long. Not a perk. But PJ day? Definitely a perk.
And tonight I’ll be at Joseph Beth in Charlotte NC with Misty Massey and other writers for a panel on fantasy. Prizes for the best costume. Come join us!