The writing life! Being wined and dined by publishers and agents. International book tours and humungous royalty checks.  Stellar reviews and loyal fans.

Yeah. Right. Read on…

A Day in the Life of Diane Dooley

0600: I wake to golden sunlight streaming through the window. It’s going to be another perfect day! Wearing my favorite pink twin-set, my grandmother’s pearls and a scant misting of Chanel #5, I drift downstairs to my book-lines study, where the butler brings me herbal tea and buttered toast points. I start writing my latest romance novel, the words falling to the manuscript like raindrops to roses…

0630: Wake from the lovely dream to find a dog’s butt in my face and my husband’s snoring in my ears. Grope around in the dark until I find yesterday’s clothes, then rub deodorant on my smelly bits. Spend the next hours corralling children, dogs and husband, finally collapsing in exhausted heap until coffee ready.

0830:  Open manuscript, read last few paragraphs. Realize I have written the Great American Romance Novel. What should I wear to the awards ceremony? Write the most wonderful words of all: The End. Send manuscript to agent, knowing that it was too perfect to edit.

0930: Wake from the lovely dream to find a different dog butt in my face. Inhale coffee. Open manuscript, read last few paragraphs. Sob with frustration, then spend an hour on Facebook and Twitter, pretending to be a real writer. Drink half a bottle of inspiration, then write a three chapter sex scene in which the heroine unfortunately dies of erotic asphyxiation. Delete it, reminding myself that I am a romance writer and a very nice person. Remind self again. Drink more inspiration.

12Noon: Pass out on couch with my butt in the dogs’ faces.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, another writer is stirring… 

A Day in the Life of Cathy Pegau

0600: Husband’s alarm goes off, kicking me out of a dream about hot pool boys and honey. OMG! I’m paralyzed! No, just the cat across my legs. Eject the furry boulder, Dog immediately jumps up on bed, huffs and falls asleep. Dog’s got the right idea.

0615: Alarm goes off. Slap snooze. Slap drooly dog face away from mine.

0624: Ditto

0633: Double ditto (what’s with 9 minute snoozing? I never understood that.) Roll out of bed to make sure kids are up (they are). Bless husband for making coffee. Squint out into darkness. *Shiver* Global warming my ass…..

0800: Kids and husband out to school and work. Time to hit the manuscript. Open email, Twitter and Facebook…just to check.

1200: Manuscript not open and I’m still in my pajamas, but I now know what all my imaginary writer friends had for lunch, did at work and will be doing this evening. Also, a personal best on Spider Solitaire. Go me! OK, let’s get serious.

1230: Open manuscript. Read last few pages. Hmmm…..This needs some work. Oh! Time for lunch!

Diane Dooley’s Day Continues…

1230: Put final touches on the Oscar acceptance speech for Best Original Screenplay, then go out with actual, real-life, flesh-and-blood people called “friends.” Find jeans and a swimsuit that fit perfectly and make me look fabulous.

1245: Wake up with dog’s tongue in my ear. Roll off the couch; find some spaghetti in my cleavage. Eat it and call it lunch.

1300: Open manuscript, then spend two and a half hours looking for inspiration on YouTube. Also complete all chores while loudly singing the entire ‘Bat Out of Hell” album.

1630: Kids arrive home from school. Spend next several hours cooking, cleaning and doing 4^th and 6^th grade English, Math, History and Science homework, along with art projects that include building dioramas of books I’ve never read. Use physical force to get boys in shower, then to bed.

2130: Look for inspiration in fridge, but it’s all gone except for a lone bottle of Angostura bitters. Fix drink with it. Open manuscript and start to type. The Angostura is working!

2200: Husband arrives home, seeking food, shelter and good company. Ignore him. Continue to write romance novel in which everyone is damaged and dies at the end. Fingers working hard to keep up with words flowing from brain. I love writing!

0200: Take phonecall from Daniel Day-Lewis, who wants to have one of my books adapted for screenplay so he can play one of my characters. He was born to play the role, apparently. He would also very much like to meet me. Am eventually persuaded.

0400: Awake with my face on the keyboard, which is covered in a vile-smelling, sticky substance which could not possible be my own drool. Final line in manuscript is: h4O[[NKLN,K [P9-O=-O9M=ORTZST=O-U. Save document, then drag my carcass to bed, considering it a day of successful writing. Kick dogs out of my sleeping spot. Collapse. Sleep without dreams.

Cathy Pegau’s Day Continues…

1330: Wake from carb-induced coma nap. Why is MTV’s Hip Hop Countdown blaring from the television? Button pants and sit at table. This manuscript will ROCK as soon as I can get past chapter three. Is the hero/heroine “cute meet” too cute? I think punching a guy in the junk spilling coffee on a guy makes a lasting impression. Leave it in. Plow on, making notes to flesh out scenes later.

1445: There! Made it to the end of chapter three! Wait. What the…? I’d already written chapter three? Really? Son of a…. *sigh*

1545: Furious activity as kids arrive home from school, dogs jump about, cats streak out from under thunderous paws of death. Call the dogs in. Tell kids to shut BOTH doors. Wonder what that damn piteous wailing is. Fetch indoor cat from outside. Ask kids how their day was. Half listen while I consider a plot point that can make or break this story. Wait. What was that about meeting with the principal tomorrow???

1730: Look up from sixth version of opening paragraph of chapter four to see kids staring at me, hollow-eyed. Dinner? Didn’t I feed them yesterday? Husband is settled in his favorite chair (when did he get here????) shaking his head. I suggest pizza.

1900: Favorite show about to come on. But it’s a rerun, so I can miss it and get back to writing. Oh, but it’s a REALLY good episode! Sit on couch with manuscript open. I’ll work during commercial breaks. Get one and a half sentences down.

2000: Ditto with second favorite show in line-up. Rewrite sentence. Twice. Add two more. Yay! Progress!

2100: Laptop battery dying. Plug it in. Crack knuckles. Get to it!

0030: Dog snoring at my feet. Everyone’s been in bed for a couple of hours, but things are moving along. Just need to get the gist of this scene down….

0245: Husband taps me on the shoulder, startling me and nearly knocking me off the chair. “You’re working in the morning. Come to bed.” Look at screen. No new words. Save what I have, shut down computer, and hope to squeeze in a little writing between classes tomorrow.

So there you have it, folks. Think twice before you take up the writing life!

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Diane Dooley writes romance, science fiction and horror; short stories, novellas and novels . You can catch up with her on her blog, Facebook or Twitter. She also blogs regularly at Contact: Infinite Futures and is a contributor to The Galaxy Express.

Check out Diane’s latest releases Blue Nebula and That Night!