Recently I read an article about the 10 rule. 10, 100, 1000, you get the idea. The theory is if you commit to writing just 10 words a day you’ll eventually spark the muse and write longer. A long time ago, way back when I first started out writing non-fiction I read many articles that touted the idea of 100 words a day. It’s something that’s stuck with me for a long time.
I don’t always make the goal, but I do have to say it does work more times than not.
100 words is not a lot in the grand scheme of things. For most it only takes a minute or two. Though, sometimes 100 words can feel like 10k, when your muse has decided to take an overdue vacation. When she threatens to make it a permanent voyage the 10 rule comes in very handy.
The article also advised incorporating the 10 rule into your editing life too. If you’re like me this comes in handy. I do NOT like editing. The issue is by the time I’ve written the book there’s usually new characters screaming at me to write their story. And in all honesty, I’m ready to move on to the next story. This doesn’t work if you want to sell!
Now that I’ve taken the leap into self-publishing editing is a big part of the process. I recently published three books and have four more to get uploaded. They all need editing. I plan to use the 10 rule for these books.
Do you have any tricks that get your muse motivated when he/she wants to take a vacation? If not you could always try the 10 rule. :0)
*** CONTEST ALERT *** CONTEST ALERT *** CONTEST ALERT ***
I’ll be giving away a copy of I Wanna Sext U Up to one lucky commenter.
Tool belt…check. Rope…check. Lube…check. Violet Wand…Check.
Beckett Manning, the host of Room Makeovers is ready to give Riley Anderson more than a remodeled kitchen. He’s about to bring her to the edge of ecstasy and back. Whether it’s hot sex in the bathtub or Riley hog-tied to the bed, he’s determined to show this brazen beauty how sexually desired she is.
A simple text leads to a case of mistaken communication and before long Riley finds herself tied to her bed and being driven to distraction. Beckett knows how to tease and torture every inch of her skin. He also knows his way around an orgasm, which keeps Riley wanting more.
It’s over, Riley. U r just no good in bed. Boring in fact. I moved my things out earlier.
Riley Anderson read the text for the hundredth time. She’d kept it to remind her of the asshole she’d spent too many years with. The words served as a reminder of her anger and resentment for the jerk who hadn’t had the decency to break up with her face-to-face. No, he had to do it over text.
“Aaargh!” Riley raised the sledgehammer again. She brought the hammer down on the kitchen cabinet with every ounce of strength her arms possessed. “This is for you, dirtbag.” She sent the iron head crashing into another wooden door. “Not good in bed? Why, because I didn’t get off on choking you until you almost passed out?”
Aside from the last year of their relationship when Terry wanted to explore darker sexual activities, Riley had believed they had a great thing going. She thought for sure he would be the man she’d marry. When she’d bought the house, it was with the intention that someday Terry would be her husband and they’d fill the spare bedrooms with children. How wrong she’d been.
The hammer smashed into the wood door of the overhead cabinet.
“Because passing out wasn’t fun? Fuck you, Terry.”
She repeatedly pounded away at the cabinets until she’d destroyed them all. “That’ll fix your ass, Terry.”
She stood back and assessed the damage. She’d managed to tear apart the kitchen in less than an hour. Her arms were sore from the weight of the tiny wrecking ball, but that didn’t matter. She’d accomplished something her ex had only promised her for the last year of their relationship. She’d started the renovation of the kitchen.
Now that Terry had been gone for nine months, she’d do it on her own. She didn’t need him to remodel. Riley was a smart woman. They’d watched the home-improvement channels so much during their relationship, she felt secure enough to do the job alone. She’d be her own fix-it handywoman.
“Guess I’d better go to the home-improvement store and get a move on this.” She leaned the wooden handle of the hammer against the cracked wood of the cabinet and wiped her hands together.
Satisfaction filled her soul.
Riley retrieved her purse and keys from the Formica countertop and headed out the door, one destination in mind. The local chain home repair store.
The ride to the store was a blur. Her only thoughts were what steps she’d need to take to get the work done. She’d have to put in new cabinets. She wanted new appliances. Stainless steel. Granite countertops were a must. Those Formica ones just wouldn’t cut it any longer.
She pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car.
“Time to buy a new kitchen.”
Confidence radiated from her as she stepped into the large store. She felt proud. She had a project to do while she was on vacation. It’d likely take her longer than the week, but it would be a start.
Riley turned to see if the man behind the sexy baritone was talking to her. She was surprised to see a gorgeous man holding a microphone walking toward her, a cameraman following closely behind him.
“Yes,” she whispered. Dear God, please don’t be from the news. The last thing I need is to be on the local news looking disheveled.
“Hi, I’m Beckett Manning. I’m from Room Makeovers. Are you remodeling any rooms in your house today?”
Holy shit! Riley’s jaw must have fallen to the floor. She’d seen the show a couple of times. Beckett looked ten times hotter in person. When she decided it was time to change the eighties-style kitchen, she’d begun watching all those makeover shows on the cable channel. Terry had watched with her, promising they’d do the kitchen soon. Soon never came. The only thing Terry had managed to do was cheat on her with some bimbo. Years of promises vanished out the window along with Terry’s things.