And the first thing that happens is I notice this little blurb on the admin side of my blog. It says. "Your blog is now eligible for Google Affiliate Ads." And I can click on a link that says "Learn more," in blue font.
It's very distracting. What, I ask myself, are Google Affiliate Ads? I guess Google is okay--the jury is out--but who knows jack about their affiliates?
Second, my blog is "now eligible?" Does that mean it wasn't eligible yesterday? What did I do to make my blog now eligible? By what stroke of luck, by what alignment of stars did my eligibility soar?
Third, it's so tempting to click on the little blue link and Learn More. Learn more about what? The Affiliates? The ads? Some universal ontology? I could totally spend a half hour or more on this.
Which is precisely the problem. My fingers will defy my brain, which wants to get going, do something useful and meaningful (for me, anyway) and write. The fingers see the blue links or whatever and just scamper away, and before you know it, it's lunch time or time to shovel the snow or whatever, and the day is a goner.
And I can complain about never having time to write.
So, here's what I'm going to do about it: I will write 500 words a day. It might be more, but the minimum is 500 words.
And to kick myself in the ass an make sure I do it, I will write a blog post on writing the 500 words. That's for the accountability part. If there's no post, it probably means I've failed, and I'm announcing my failure to the world, hoping the fear and shame of failure will keep me from wondering why my blog is now eligible and wasn't before.
What will the 500 words be about? I'm not sure. I hope a novel. but it could also be a memoir of sorts. I don't know. It may all come to nothing. But if I worry about all that, I'll worry about that and not do the 500 words.
I sort of know some of the characters, I guess, but not really. They seem to be composites of people I've known. But whatever happens and how this all turns out is totally up to them.
So, world: You are now my accountability coach. Do not cut me a whit of slack.