I am not what you would call a joiner. In school, I never played sports or participated in extracurriculars—save art club, but that was more of a drop-in-whenever sort of deal.
My parents signed me up for computer camp one summer, which I now appreciate, but at the time, I was less-than grateful. There’s an active kink community in my area of which I’m not a member.
So when the lovely Doctor J invited me to join Sisters in Smut, I’ll admit, I was hesitant. Having grappled with social anxiety my whole life, I’m used to the tense muscles and racing thoughts that accompany any sort of potential group event—including online interactions.
But something told me not to shy away from this opportunity…
Tis the season to hunker down with a cup of tea and a pair of warm, fuzzy socks and that’s exactly what I’ve been up to, parked in front of the laptop, typing away at my WIP after a hectic workweek.
Unfortunately, I’ve also been slacking on my blogging and social media duties. Oops.
I marvel at the social media and writing powerhouses who manage to divide their attention in ways that seem effortless: blogging, commenting, writing, Tweeting, Facebooking, Tumblring, etc.
Can I borrow some of your mojo? Pretty please?
Since my job is tied to the academic calendar, I’m extremely fortunate to be heading into a nice break. My plan is to finish “The Cabin” before the end of the year, even in the midst of holiday craziness.
This time of year is ripe for miracles, right?
In the meantime, I’m curious as to how other writers (and creative people in general) juggle their blogging and social media engagement with their primary work, i.e. the big projects. Do you see them as one in the same, means to an end, or do you sometimes resent having to forsake one in lieu of the other? Are you like me in that you prefer to hole yourself up in peace and quiet or do you seek lively, energetic environments like busy cafés to coax your muse out of hiding?
Personally, once I’m in the thick of a major task, I tend toward a certain level of detachment from the outside world, though it’s not often possible or even preferable, in most cases. I am by no means immune to the occasional twinge of guilt when I miss a blogger-buddy’s post, or when friends and family send messages asking if I’m still alive, though the clever ones have discovered that I will periodically leave my hermit’s cave for the promise of a good Irish Benedict and crispy home fries—and maybe a blueberry pancake on the side.
All right, I’m off to put last weekend’s plotting efforts to good use.