I'm going to deadline
Deadline final draft
I'm going to deadline
Tie-ins and series once trilogies
And we are going to deadline

And my one-sheet companions
Are late with pen name placeholders
I'm looking at slots and pen names
But I've reason to believe
We all will be crowding
Our deadlines

Dialog's marked with an unvarnished "said".
(Chapter, page; word, sentence, and line.)
Don't bother to say someone "grumbled" instead.
You'll soon be a writer, in time.

And if your hero has a child, or a pet,
(Chapter, page; word, sentence, and line.)
Don't kill them off, or the reader will fret.
You'll soon be a writer, in time.

Print with the settings that the publisher wants.
(Chapter, page; word, sentence, and line.)
Remember to use the Courier font.
You'll soon be a writer, in time.

Gestetner
Used paper with nice colours
It used the greens of summers
Makes you think all the words have a meaning
I got an old typewriter
That still cuts a stencil
Mama don't take my Gestetner away

If you took all the girls I met
When it was Easter
And brought them all together for one con
They'd never fit inside
Those time-worn t-shirts
And everyone looks worse in broad daylight.

Gestetner
Used paper with nice colours
It used the greens of summers
Makes you think all the words have a meaning
I got an old typewriter
That still cuts a stencil
Mama don't take my Gestetner away

If you'll be my amanuensis
I can be your long-lost muse
I can call you Philip
And Philip when you call me
You can call me Dick
Call me Dick

"Kathy," I said as we logged in to format our epub
"Editing seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to make sure I only wrote
"its" when used as a possessive noun

Saving backup files
playing games with the fonts
She said that Georgia looked better in double-spaced print
I said the guidelines demanded a Courier typeface

"We can't submit there, it says they want Young Adult Fiction"
"But your Writer's Market is seven years old"
I looked at the copyright, she browsed Amazon.com
"I found one, used, fair condition..."

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was editing
"I can't figure out how to get to act three
I might have to go back and retcon the second book"

we set off to hit 90,000 words
still trying to get 90,000 words
maybe we'll make 80,000 words

Alas, I'm no Steve Gadd yet, nor am I good enough yet at finishing the stories I start to qualify for VP even if I could afford to go, or I'd throw an offer of drumming in to help get it performed. *grins* I'll just have to see what I can do to contribute to the thread and keep getting practice interacting with people.

--Dave, shuffling

Me, my thoughts are side-plot-strewn,
characters barking at the moon.
I have got to write to find my way.
Watch the screen and memorize
the words I type before my eyes.
Nothing is going my way.

The ending is the novel's goal,
the resolution, Story knows;
We're closer now than light years to go.

I have got to write the novel.
Dramatic scenes and flashback reveals
run through my head and fall away.
Watch the screen and memorize
the words I type before my eyes.
Nothing is going my way.

I don't know where to put the lead,
but I tell you and you can see
we're closer now than light years to go.
Pick up here and chase the thread.
The novel's somewhere in your head.
Fall into the plotline.

The novel to the ending goes,
a sorely needed denouement.
None of this is going my way.
There is nothing left to throw
of tropes and story-seeds, I know,
character monologues and slice-of-day.

Hard revision overrides
the privileged and weary eyes
of wee-hours writer's block naivete.
Pick up here and chase the thread.
The novel's somewhere in your head.
All of this is coming your way.

"In my youth," Author William replied to the fan,
"I feared it might injure the plot;
But, now, that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it a heck of a lot."

"You are old," said the youth, "in case I was unclear,
And have grown most uncommonly slow,
Yet you blistered that noxious conservative's ears -
Pray, what is the reason it's so?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he
I learned to give discourse and rant
By fighting on Usenet with idiot trolls -
Allow me to point you to 4-chan?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your mind too unfocused
For anything tougher than rhyme,
Yet you now write sestinas, and columns in Locus -
Pray, have you a partner in crime?"

"In my youth," said the author, "I worked for a zine,
And did my time reading the slush;
And my hard-earned ability to edit and screen
Results in this masterful touch."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly believe
That you still coud write such scenes of action,
Yet in your last book, the world ended three times,
Amid the loud ringing of klaxons..."

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said the author, "Cease with your prattle!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Now quit interrupting my panel!"

and the screen of my laptop
brings the bitter truth to light:
this is worse than Eye of Argon
or almost
Atlanta Nights

up a narrow flight of stairs
in a narrow little room
here I sit all night at desk
butt in chair but brain entombed

and papering my wall
my eyes can't help but see
every damn rejection letter
that was ever
sent to me

from "once upon a time"
to the "the" very bitter "end"
there is mediocrity
in every keystroke that I send

like a Muse in a cage
the plot within me bides
but it never hits the page
without
becoming fried

Apparently I need to take up some of Author William's mental habits. I was writing this out of order, and in some haste. I duly apologize and will fill in the line soon, unless another commenter beats me to it. (Feel free to supply your own interpretation.)

Counting messages on my Wall
That don't bother me at all
Playing Solitaire till dawn
When my internet is down
Drinking Plymouth gin and posting here on Making Light
Now don't tell me
I've nothing to write.

Last night I dressed in leather, pretended I was Neil
Now all I need's his hairstyle, but my bald head feels so real
If only I had talent, the ideas would just flow
Cos writing must be easy – just look at those who do!

Posting porno on your Wall
That don't bother me at all
Watching Jeremy till dawn
Though he really makes me yawn
Drinking Newkie Brown and reinstalling Linux Mint
Now don't tell me
You know why I'm skint!

"Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?"