Self-Discipline at 5 in the Morning

~ Margaret Lucke ~ 1 Comment

By Margaret Lucke

How do you define self-discipline? To me, it’s the quality that enables you to force yourself to do something you know is good for you when you’d rather do something else.

It’s focusing on business rather than pleasure.

It’s favoring long-term goals (lose five pounds, meet the deadline) over short-term benefits (eat the chocolate, spend the gorgeous afternoon taking a walk).

It’s getting up way too early in the morning, when any normal person would still be tucked up comfortably in bed.

But not everyone agrees with me.

Quite a few years ago, as an aspiring mystery novelist, I attended the late, great Cabrillo Suspense Writers Conference, a wonderful event held annually for a decade at a rustic lodge in the Santa Cruz Mountains. One day I had a conversation over coffee with a fellow writer. At that time he had published two well-received mystery novels, but he was still working long hours at his day job at a local college. Finding time to write was a challenge for me, and I asked him how he managed to do that while dealing all of the other demands in his life.

“It’s simple,” he explained. “Every morning, seven days a week, I get up at 5 o’clock and sit down at his desk to write.”

Seriously? There’s a 5 o’clock in the morning? I thought 5 o’clock automatically meant late afternoon.

I am not a morning person. I’m fine with being awake when it’s dark outside, but only if I’ve approached it from the other end, the gradual fading of daylight into night. But wake up while it’s still dark? Impossible. Until daylight touches my bedroom window, my eyes refuse to open and my brain is on strike. I can’t find the floor at 5 a.m. unless I fall out of bed. There’s no way I can write a coherent sentence.

But I have a high regard for writers, and I’ve known several, who regularly rise before dawn to produce pages. Good pages too, not the gibberish I’d come up with.

I said as much to my coffee companion: “You know, I really admire your self-discipline.”

His response surprised me. “Oh, that’s not self-discipline.”

“What do you mean?” I said. “You just said you make yourself get up every morning when you want to be sleeping and force yourself to sit and write.”

“That’s right.”

“How is that not self-discipline? It sounds like the perfect example to me.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “It’s not self-discipline because I don’t enjoy it.”

What? To me, if he didn’t enjoy it, then his peculiar (to me) habit fit the definition even more. Obviously we had different takes on what self-discipline means. I prodded, but I couldn’t get him to explain his concept any further.

Self-discipline or not, whatever he was doing worked. He went on to considerable success and acclaim as a mystery writer, with almost three dozen novels to his credit and several awards on his shelf. My track record, on the other hand, is considerably shorter.

Maybe I should try setting my alarm clock just a little bit earlier.

Writer… or Robot?

~ janispattersonmysteries ~ 9 Comments

by Janis Patterson

Computers can be wonderful things. You can change or cut lines or paragraphs, move copy around, pretty much do whatever you want to do and yet end up with a clean copy with no tiresome retyping of entire manuscripts. It is a tool without compare, but it is only as good (word-wise) as the person using it.


Or it used to be. Now there is a new plague – or savior, depending on one’s viewpoint – in the machine and people are very divided about it. Just to be very clear, I am on the anti- side.


This new creature is available in many places and formats and names, and all fall under the general umbrella of ‘assisted writing programs’ – in other words, AI programs that can do a lot of the work of writing (like putting the words down) for you in a sort of simulacrum of your writing voice and style.
Doesn’t anyone see the horror of this? These programs not only check spelling (which is good) and grammar (which is all too often not so good) but they actually do varying amounts of the writing, with mechanical ease turning out copy that is more like pre-digested word salad instead of genuine writing.


I see the difference as similar to ordering a house kit (as you used to be able to) with all the lumber pre-cut and numbered, ready to put together according to the directions like a 3-D jigsaw puzzle, and then calling yourself an architect. You’re allowed to do the pretty bits – trim and paint and such, but the actual building is created miles away by a machine. Translate this to writing and you become a technician rather than a writer.


I don’t see why someone who calls themselves a writer or who hopes to become a writer using such a Frankenstein thing. Not only do they have to pay for it, and learn the probably Byzantine command structure, but they get a product that is at best only partially theirs. Instead of all this, why don’t they just learn the rules, learn the craft and learn to really write? It will serve them better longer than a computer program.


There’s a commercial on tv right now for one of these things, and one line strikes me as being particularly egregious – something about if you’re a copywriter and need a dynamite line… Having been a copywriter in one of my many wordsmith incarnations this makes me furious and appalled. In my opinion if you have to have a machine/program/whatever these things are do a great chunk of the writing for you, you aren’t any kind of a writer!


Are some people so desperate to put the word ‘writer’ or ‘author’ after their name that they will cheat with programs like these? I guess so. I personally believe if you can’t do it by yourself you shouldn’t be doing it at all.


Writers should write – not be a technician to a writing program.

Moving + Writing = Behind

~ patyjag ~ 4 Comments

I am just about moved into our new-to-us home. One more week and I’ll have everything moved and will be settled into the smaller house. Downsizing is not easy! After 47 years, 4 kids, 12 grandkids, 2 great grandkids, I have boxes of photos that I’ve been going through. getting rid of duplicates and bad images from the days when you took the film in to be printed.

I have more furniture than this house can hold, but at the same time, I need to purchase furniture to fit in smaller spaces.

And don’t get me started downsizing from a walk-in closet to a 7 ft long closet in a 1952 older house. I see some remodeling going on in the bedroom down the road. Right now we are concentrating on making the kitchen and dining area larger.

  • Many of the things I’m doing to move relate to my writing.
  • Watching for duplicate words or words that aren’t strong enough.
  • making better word choices that fit the scene or the character even if the word had worked well before.
  • Shortening sentences to be more concise and not take up so much space in the story.
  • And expanding on the mystery and subplots to show the development of my characters and explore more reasons for the murder.

While I’m making the 4-hour drive back and forth from the old place to the new, I’ve summoned up several scenes and reasons for the actions of my characters in the work in progress.

But the words aren’t popping up on the computer screen because when I do finally have time to sit down at the computer, I have emails and promotions to tend to before my brain gives out.

In the last couple of days, I’ve thought about moving my deadline for this book out, but then it feels like I’m copping out. Instead, I’ll spend the rest of the month pushing to finish the book and know it will be published a bit later than I’d planned, but I managed to write it within my deadline.

That is the hardest part of writing for me. Not lambasting myself when I miss a deadline. When I put it out to the universe that something will happen or be finished, I don’t make excuses. I push and make it happen. It is my greatest strength as a writer. Self-discipline.

I can’t remember if I mentioned that Book 8 in the Spotted Pony Casino is now available in print and ebook.

When the past knocks on their door, the future they planned begins to unravel.

On the brink of their wedding, Dela Alvaro and Heath Seaver’s plans shatter when a ten-year-old boy appears, claiming to be Heath’s son. The truth is even darker: the boy’s mother—the woman Heath thought died years ago at Pine Ridge—was an FBI informant hidden under a new identity, left to raise his child alone before dying of addiction.

As Heath wrestles with awe for the son he never knew and fury at the FBI’s deception, the past turns deadly. When the agent who lied to him is found murdered in Pendleton, the FBI shows up on Dela’s doorstep, bringing danger straight to their home.

With their future on the line, Dela and Heath must confront a web of secrets before it destroys the family they’re just beginning to build.

Universal book link: https://books2read.com/u/3LzAxJ

Buy direct from the author: ebook – https://www.patyjager.net/product/full-house-ebook/

Autographed print book – https://www.patyjager.net/product/full-house/

You can also now purchase Merry Merry Merry Murder in audiobook format.

Where comfort and cheer meet scandalous secrets—A holiday mystery set in a small town.

Audiobook website – https://www.patyjager.net/product/merry-merry-merry-murder-audiobook/

In my next post, I’ll be talking about my 20th anniversary as a published author.

Stealing the identity of a real-life friend

~ Nancy Lynn Jarvis ~ 5 Comments

I probably should connect more with Regan McHenry, the realtor-protagonist in my first series, Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries because Regan started out as me. But “Nancy” only made it until she found a body. I was so disturbed by that event that I had to put some distance between me and make believe. So, the truth is, I connect much more with downsized-out-of-her-Santa-Cruz-County-Law- Librarian position and newly minted private investigator, Pat Pirard.

It’s not unusual for my characters to start out as people I know. Starting with real people works well for me until I want a character to do something my real person wouldn’t do. Often, they refuse to do what the story demands quite forcefully. Rather than argue with my characters, I have learned the best way to handle the situation is to change their name so they will become more mailable and bend to my will, although sometimes not without an argument.

There are only two exceptions in my name changing strategy. The first is Dave in the Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries. The other character who has always retained her real name is Pat.

The real Pat is one of the most interesting people I know. She’s inquisitive, daring, friendly, resourceful, and curious, traits she retains in the books.  it’s fun to take some of her idiosyncrasies and incorporate them into my written protagonist. The real Pat giggles. In my books I say she sometimes giggles; the real Pat insists she never does. Both Pats, real and written, are incredible markswomen who always carry a 357 Magnum revolver with them, the real Pat in her purse, my Pat in the leopard briefcase she sports. Both Pats love bold jewelry and wear it liberally.

In the past, both Pats were the Santa Cruz County Law Librarian. The real Pat retired from that role and was happy to devote more time to the side hustle she had: being a PI. My Pat was downsized out of her job on her thirty-fifth birthday and had to become an unlicensed private investigator, not so much because she loved being a PI, but out of necessity to pay the bills.

The real Pat is confident about who she is and what she wants. Pat Pirard started out unsure about how to be a PI, struggled with deciding about a romantic relationship, and wondered if she could solve a case and get a paycheck before she and her pets, Dot, her Dalmatian, and her ginger tabby cat, Lord Peter Wimsey, got evicted because of non-payment of rent.

      In the series, time moves realistically with Pat getting her next assignment at the end of each book or immediately after the previous book ends. What Lucy Heard is my Pat’s sixth job and begins with her taking on a jury selection assignment, a role the real Pat has done but says was so stressful she will never do it again. My Pat, who has no experience with jury selection, reluctantly agrees to give it a try even though she isn’t looking forward to working with the famed attorney who has made her feel manipulated when she worked for him in the past. With each of Pat’s cases she’s been gaining experience and confidence and has learned to trust her instincts, but in this book, it feels like she’s starting over and will have to build belief in her abilities from scratch.

She accepts the challenge, though, and does a credible job with jury selection, happy to help because she believes the accused man’s bizarre story about how his fingerprints wound up on the murder weapon and why he was at the murder scene. The problem is that Pat sits in the courtroom and hears all the witness testimony which contradicts what the accused man told her. Self-doubt swamps her and she becomes concerned she’s helping a guilty man get away with murder.

She decides the only way she’ll be able to sleep at night is to solve the murder, something the police feel they’ve already done. After investigating and looking at things differently, she thinks she’s finally figured out what really happened. Unfortunately, her solution to the murder seems as far-fetched as the story the accused man told. How Pat tries to prove her thesis makes for some silliness and a few story kinks.

Thank goodness the real Pat approves of how my Pat solved the murder so I’m free to keep using her as a character and delighted to continue to bring a friend to the pages of mysteries.

Mama Bird

~ Janet Dawson ~ 7 Comments

I have hummingbird feeders on my patio, hanging from the bottom of the balcony above. They are made of red glass and have a wire rim at the bottom, so the birds can perch while feeding. I also have hummingbird-friendly plants in my garden and frequently see hummingbirds feeding on the blossoms outside.

These are Anna’s hummingbirds, common in the Bay Area, native to western coastal regions. They are tiny birds, with an iridescent bronze-green back, pale gray chest and belly, and green flanks. The bills are long, straight and slender. The male is the most colorful, with a crimson head and a flashy gorget, which is the patch of colorful feathers at the throat or upper breast. The female hummingbird also has a gorget, though not as bright.

Several weeks ago, I glanced at one of the feeders and noticed something new on the wire rim. Upon closer examination, I discovered it was a nest. Hummingbird nests are shaped like cups and in this case, about the size of a walnut. I was delighted to see this addition to the feeder, hanging just a few feet from my patio door.

Mama Bird wasn’t done building the nest. I watched her swoop around the edges of the balcony and the nearby downspout and realized that she was gathering spider silk. She would add that to the nest, along with wispy bits of plant fluff. The outside of the nest appears to have a coating of lichen. I haven’t examined it too closely, since I don’t want to frighten Mama Bird from her nest. I’m careful when I go out on my patio. She often flies away but she will sometimes stay on the nest when I step outside. Maybe she has decided I’m not a threat, though I imagine she’s giving me a wary look with those tiny eyes.

Hummingbirds typically lay a clutch of two eggs, about the size of small jelly beans. According to what I’ve read on the Internet, the eggs incubate for 21 days before they hatch. At first I noticed that Mama Bird had switched to feeding behavior, poking downward with her long slim bill. Then a few days ago I caught a glimpse of a baby, then two. Mama swoops in and out, seeking food for herself and her babies. She returns to the nest to pump partially digested food into the mouths of those two hungry chicks, naked without feathers, their little beaks turned upward. Then she settles into the nest on top of them, to keep them warm.

My research tells me it’s about three weeks from hatching to fledging, with the chicks growing feathers, getting big, then ready to leave the nest and fly. I hope both little babies make it. Mama is certainly doing her best, focused on her task.

I think of Mama Bird and I think of the three Ps—patience, persistence and perseverance. We’ve had some cold rainy weather lately, also wind. Yet she’s there, day and night, in all kinds of weather, sitting on that nest in between forays for food.

Patience, persistence and perseverance are watchwords for writers, too. We have an idea for a book or a story and we build our nest using plot, characters and setting, working on the project until it hatches, feeding it until it fledges and we can send it out into the world.

It may certainly take longer than it takes for Mama Bird and her chicks. Years, even. But we keep at it.

Remember what Emily Dickinson wrote.

Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul.