Yes, the pun is intentional.
Some people have a real procrastinating problem. But me, I don't have a life, so I don't put much off. Most of the time, I am one hundred percent anal. When I get it in my head to do something, I don't rest until it's done.
So, since my brain's made itself up to go to WIFYR, I'm determined to have my manuscript ready. But I know that puppy will need at least three edits, probably more. That leaves me just three months. Really, it would be best to finish my first edit yesterday. I'm a little short on time travel skills, though, so I'm editing at the (for me) frenetic pace of a chapter a day, hoping to be finished by April.
You may have noticed that none of these deadlines are imposed. No one says I must have the manuscript letter-perfect by mid-June. No one is standing behind me with a whip saying, "Come on! A chapter! Is that all you can do?" No one is demanding I finish these last 12.5 chapters in the next two weeks.
No one, that is, except me.
'Cause if I don't have it done, that makes me a mega-slacker. And we can't have that! No, no, must finish chapter. No more of these sewing distractions (more about that another time). No more reading. No more making lunch for these children. They can climb, can't they?
I've heard horror stories about writers who flake out or slack off on their editors because they think deadlines cramp their creative style. Somehow, I don't think that will be a problem for me.