Back in school, the first English class of the year usually opened with a “kids, what did you do this summer, please pretend you care about school now” assignment. While I rarely did anything interesting during break, and it’s been a lot of years since secondary school, with fall looming I feel like scratching out one for me.

Only there’s a small twist. My topic is what I learned this summer.

Ahem. This summer, I learned the following:
1) Take off as many days as possible.
2) Avoid road trips that involve Pennsylvania, and the Comfort Inn in Columbus, Ohio.
4) If a road trip means more than eight hours at the wheel, fly. For the love of God, fly!
5) GPS = good. We named ours Chloe. She might have saved the marriage.
6) Set a reasonable limit on summer time projects. Five proved a bit too ambitious.

Granted the above is a list, rather than a paragraph styled theme. But then I mentioned a twist.

On other fronts, I did the unthinkable last night. Swapped unpublished short stories with a writer. A thing I swore never to do, unless I joined a writing group, which would be shortly after drinking lunch from a gin bottle.

Anyway, the value of this exchange is what it revealed. For whatever reason, or twist of the universe, our styles are very similar. Not that my style is spectacular or unique, but I consider it mine, just as much as this writer considers his take on language the product of many years of writing and reading.

But damn if it wasn’t creepy at points. Reading a line, then thinking, exactly how I would have put that down. It’s almost like meeting a guy in a bar, cracking a few jokes, and discovering both of you are sleeping with the same girl. Either duke it out, or recognize that maybe there’s a reason two paths crossed.

I have my idea, anyway.

Cleared the halfway mark on the Team Eagle Eye edits. Since the last 75 pages need only a few days of work — mostly towards the very end of the story — a mid to late September finish is possible. I’ll avoid a hard and fast prediction, however. Suffice to say, I want to finish before the leaves turn amber.

Two weeks on bottom-up edits, then the manuscript heads off to a reader group for feedback and corrections. These three have proved that they can work very quickly on this and other projects, so I believe they will return it with alacrity.

No plans to work on the novel ever again beyond Halloween. From that point it’s agent shopping and new stories. The next main project may or may not turn into another novel. I’ll just let it run its course without worrying about what I want. Plus there’s a possible collaboration, but I must reach out to someone properly about that one. Between the two, I’ll keep sharpening the chops.

Back to work now…

As Day Three of my self-imposed exile ends, I note with sadness that the run is over; tomorrow the school bell tolls for thee. Ack.

What follows are a few lessons I want to remember from the experience:
1) Offline writing increases productivity. In fact, the surest way to end creative streaks — launch a web browser slither into the Web’s clutches. A laptop with a decent word processor and no wireless card is the recommended configuration. My greatest realization in the last four years.

2) Divide writing days into two main sessions. A long morning stint, while the brain is freshest, one or two hours of errands, chores, phone calls and eating, then three to four hours on the backstretch. Close with either exercise, alcohol and a shower. In total, it equals roughly eight productive hours, while spanning ten to twelve. During the breaks, engage as many people as possible in conversation. Random compliments can open the floodgates of all sorts of usable dialog or ideas. And there’s no sense turning anti-social, just because the day is spent on anti-social endeavors.

3) The longer the evening session runs, the more spelling devolves, such to the point that by 8 PM the simplest of words, like articles and character names, become Russian Roulette. This breakdown proves the laws of diminishing returns apply beyond physics.

4) Writing outside the home is OK, though choose the spot with care. A buddy’s family room might work. The same dude’s poker table in the middle of a wicked matchup: probably not.

5) Hang up on telemarketers fast, early and often. It’s just the right thing to do. On any day.

Wrote through a Sunday afternoon family visit, TV droning in the corner, without anyone really noticing; they almost expect this sort of behavior from me now.

Part of a conversation with my father-in-law: “Working on your book? Old book, new book?” he asked.

By the time I looked up and said, yes, that one, he was fixing a lawn mower in the garage.

I’m going straight to hell, I swear.