An Article On Procrastination? I'll Write It
Tomorrow.
By Tommy Donbavand
I've been away.
Sorry, I should have said - or at least left a note with a forwarding address.
Did you miss me?
Oh, right. You didn't notice I'd gone. Fair point. But, I'm back now.
You see, I've been busy.
I pulled out an idea I'd been mulling over for a non-fiction book, polished off a proposal, sent it to the first publisher I found that dealt with the subject matter and - bingo. I hit home. They went for it.
Unbelievable.
After years of pushing open the gilt edged door to the screenwriting world inch by inch with the softer parts of my anatomy, only to have it slammed back with every passing plot point - one proposal lands on one book publisher's desk, and it's almost as though they've been waiting for me to get in touch.
So now, I have to write the manuscript. The manuscript for a book that will be published next year. With my name on the cover, and everything.
My name. As the writer. I'll be a published writer. I can introduce myself at parties as a writer, and. and when they ask what I've written, I'll be able to tell them. No more dodging the issue, talking of pending deals in Hollywood, attorney unhappy with the small print, and deep rooted character issues with the possible attached talent.
I can show them my book.
Tommy Donbavand. Writer.
Except. It's not going too well.
I write, therefore I procrastinate.
That's where my problem lies. King of maximum effort with minimum results, me. Lord of arranging all my envelopes into size order so that I can instantly grab the right one to post. well, anything I finish writing, which isn't a lot lately.
Procrastination Man. Saving the world - tomorrow.
I've got five weeks to finish the manuscript. Sounds tough, but it's all written. In my head. I've just got to put it down on paper.
Paper. I'll need more paper. That's an hour or two spent poring over a stationery catalogue, tongue hanging limply as I piece together the ideal home office in my mind. Reams of soft, virginal paper. Crisp, cool envelopes. The proud gleam of a filing cabinet. Pencils upright and sharpened, ready for my grasp, aching to soil the milky white sheets of a fresh spiral bound notepa-
Ahem. Sorry. Lost my train of thought there for a moment. But hey - you're a writer. You've got this stationery thing too, haven't you? It can't be just me.
As I was saying, the manuscript is already written - it just needs typing up.
Typing. That's where I could do with some improvement. I still type two fingered, and while I'm relatively fast - it's not exactly a good advert for myself, is it? I should be able to type. I mean, how will it look if the editor finds out that I can't type properly? I'm a writer: it's a necessary skill, damn it!
Hang on, I've got a copy of that Mavis Beacon teach yourself to type thing here somewhere. It came free on a computer magazine cover disk. I'll load that up, get a bit of practice in, then the book will fly out.
Oh yeah, the book.
I'll dig the proposal out and have another look over it. That'll inspire me to get cracking. After all, it did the trick with the publisher.
Yep, good proposal that. I wrote that after reading an article on good book proposals right here on Absolute Write. Good, solid advice. I wonder if there's anything on getting down to writing the manuscript itself on the site? You know, an article that helps me to set out exactly what I want to write, and just dive in there and write it, without any of the usual fluffing around. Actually, I haven't checked out the new articles for a while, there could be something that would really help me.
Launch Internet Explorer.
Close Internet Explorer. I'm supposed to be writing! Just get on with it. One chapter at a time.
Chapters. I'll lay out the list of chapters, and make notes on each one. Brainstorm it, and see if I can get my ideas down in order. That way, it'll just be a case of linking it all together.
Now, how many chapters did we agree on? Where's the contract?
Maybe if I read the contract again. The contract with my name on it, as the writer - that will give me a boost. My first contract. Maybe I should frame it.
They've spelled my name wrong! How the hell did I miss that? It's right there on the front page - only that's not me. That's another writer with a similar name to mine. Oh my god. What if there really is another writer with a name so similar to mine that they think he's the one writing the book? What if he's already written it, and I'm still messing about with contracts and typing and ordering stationery?
Maybe it's a sign? They spelled Buddy Holly's name wrong on his first contract, you know? It should have been Holley. And look what happened to him.
I'll have to ring them and sort it out. I don't want it spelled wrong on the cover. That would be terrible. How stupid will I look at those parties, flashing my book around, proving I'm a writer, with my name spelled wrong?
You can't ring them now, Tommy - it's 1:50 a.m. It'll have to wait.
I could leave a message.
No, that looks desperate. You're trying to project an image here of a solid, professional writer - not some chimp typing, stationery catalogue junkie who haunts the editor's answering machine in the early hours just because he's spotted an typo on the contract.
You're right. I won't mention it. It'll be OK. And if they do spell my name wrong on the cover, I'll just change it by deed poll so that it matches.
Don't be daft, Donbavand. You can call her in the morning. Now, get writing!
OK, here we go. Deep breath. Fingers - both of them - poised over the keys. Contract open, let's see. 10 chapters. I can do that. blah, blah, blah. illustrations.
Illustrations? I've got to do illustrations? Who told them I could do illustrations? I'm not an illustrator!
I'll have to stop and have a serious think about that.
Maybe I'll make a cup of tea first.
Tommy Donbavand comes from Liverpool, but doesn't know any of The Beatles.
For the past six years, he's played the Clearlake MC in the musical Buddy in London's West End. He's constantly amazed that
no-one has figured out how much fun he's having, and put a stop to it.
His first book, Quick Fixes For Bored Kids, will be published in April 2001, and his screenplays continue to
attract a dazzling array of rejection letters from around the world.
Tommy's web site, www.wobblebottom.com
(don't ask), is currently under construction, or you can e-mail him at tommyd@ukgateway.net.
