I'm writing a book proposal (for my new SMASH-HIT BESTSELLER that will help people around the world and get Terry Gross to interview me). I experience excitement and dread in this process. Peace and agitation. Basic writing stuff. Writing is fullfillinghard. Fundrudgery. Gratifyingdoubtinducing.
At this very moment I am in the midst of a whirr of writing activity. My father, who has retired to Tucson, is visiting me for a week in Massachusetts. Right now I have dispatched him to wander around Northampton for 75 minutes while I pound out my proposal at the Haymarket Cafe. I'm cranking! (This blog post counts as part of my proposal-writing, by the way.)
Basically, what I need is a series of babysitters -- friends, relatives or complete strangers who will leave me in cafes with my laptop, and then come back a fixed time later to take me away. It's the fact that the time period will end that makes me productive.
I am productive when I have just the right amount of freedom taken away.
