What I Thought Author Life Would Be Like vs. What it’s Actually Like

What I thought it would be like:

Writing retreats full of discourse, stimulating discussions, plotting, and lots of other authors.

What it’s actually like:

What I thought it would be like:

Ideas lining up, falling neatly into their places, everything is flowing and glorious and ticking along like pure, perfect, writing clockwork.

What it’s actually like:

EVER HEARD OF SLEEPING, Ideas? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

What I thought it would be like:

Editing, DONE. Polishing? This baby is shining. Revision number three is going SO WELL.

What it’s actually like:

This was such a great idea to edit this bit here—DAMN IT now I have to re-write every part with foreshadowing and change the spelling for one noun hidden throughout 60,000 words.

What I thought it would be like:

Blissful hours spent writing.

What it’s actually like:

Why am I on Canva again? How did Pinterest boards take up three hours? What happened?

What I thought it would be like:

Writing, writing, writing, more writing, lots of writing, all the words!

What it’s actually like:

Re-writing my goddamn author bio for the 50th time.

What I thought it would be like:

The house will just somehow keep itself clean? I dunno, somehow I thought there would be time for writing and cleaning and cooking and parenting and writing.

What it’s actually like:

This mess keeps multiplying although I am sitting quietly at my computer desk without cleaning, how unfair, I did not authorize this method.

What I thought it would be like:

Writing the story.

What it’s actually like:

Back on thesaurus.com looking up synonyms for “moist” for the 800th time