Wednesdays are my day to randomly babble. Sometimes about children books, others about writing, and usually about whatever strikes my mind. Random thoughts...random whittleings.
One thing, I've always avoided is writing lists.
Me and lists aren't best friends. Not in the least.
It starts with locating a paper and pen. Let the search begin! Every drawer in the house turns suspect. Even though I have lots of notebooks, it's those silly pens which keep disappearing. Dozens of them, all within an hour or two. The pen monster puts the sock monster (the one who lives in the laundry machine) to shame.
Then, there's the problem to remember where I put the list, remembering to look at it (I do forget I even made one), or remembering to take it along to the store...oh, and let's not forget the new search once inside the store. Where did that list go? I'm not sure why my clothes always has so many pockets.
With my book release coming up—it still is around 4 months away—I'm forced to keep not only one list but several. I have two calendars running, one for my book blog (I gave up on trying to keep track of all of those posts years ago) and one for the marketing things. But those lists...what to do with them?
A list of who to email.
A list of who has been emailed.
A list of possible emails.
A list of who reviewed.
A list of who to ask to review.
A list of who agreed to review.
A list of blog posts and when.
A list of interviews and when.
A list of visitations and when.
A list of possible award sites.
A list of...
A bit of an exaggeration? Probably. But only a little bit.
At times, I wonder if I'm going to get buried under lists. Maybe, I should keep a white flag with me, so I can stick that up through the pile and beg to surrender. I'm definitely going to get confused about which lists I have and how to locate them, even if I make the stack nice and tidy.
Or I'll figure this entire list thing out and become a list heroine!
Take my husband—he's a true list buddy and hangs them all over the house. A list for shopping...a list for things to do that weekend...a list for parts he needs to order... But I've noticed, he forgets where he put his lists too. Constantly.
The solution—to write a list for the lists! Ugh. And that sounds like the search is going to start all over again.
Now, where did my pens go???