A Saturday in the Life of A.P. Miller

I don’t necessarily look forward to Saturdays — I really like my day job and the people I work with, so …c’est la vie. What I do enjoy about Saturdays is that I will typically have an entire day to create and hopefully type towards my ultimate goal of being a Pulitzer Prize Winning, New York Times Best Selling Author. I still work towards my word count during the weekday evenings (and even holidays), but Saturday is mine to do with what I like. To celebrate such a day, I’ve decided to break down what tomorrow will look like for me.

4:40 AM – Time to get up and take a leak, it’s not glamorous, but my bladder is the Gordon Gekko of internal organs who waits for no one.

4:41 AM – After the demands of the body have been met, it’s back to sleep.

8:05 AM – …son of a bitch! I’m going to be late for work!

8:06 AM – Nope, false alarm, it’s Saturday. But now that I’m somewhat in control of my faculties, what do I need to do at work? I made that last phone call, right? Yes, yes I did. Sleep? No, not anymore.

8:45 AM – I’m not sure who invented YouTube, but God bless them for creating a platform that all of those “Do It Yourself” projects have instructions! …I mean, I’m not going to do one, but it’s nice to know that I could if I wanted to!

9:10 AM – While my coffee is brewing, I’m thinking of opening my own coffee shop. What will be different between my coffee shop and the bajillion other coffee shops in the world? I’m going to have people write haikus on the wall in chalk. It will be a creative poetry community and it will be beautiful! …coffee’s done! My coffee shop venture will have to wait until it’s time to brew another cup.

9:30 AM – I’m usually reading the news; you never know what kind of current event is going to inspire your next great idea. You open the news website with hope, but it’s usually just full of racism, people beating their kids, people getting violent over politics, and other acts of being a terrible human being. Every now and again you’ll hear about a puppy that saved someone’s life, but that’s pretty rare. With all the horrible stuff people have been doing to pets, it wouldn’t surprise me if they stopped saving humans. It was a pretty grim thought, a Golden Retriever watching a house burn down with a cigarette hanging out of its mouth and nothing but contempt in its eyes. This type of vivid visual fiction usually means it’s time to write.

10:02 AM – I, A.P. Miller, have begun writing the single greatest novel in all of literature. I will be celebrated for generations and centuries.

10:05 AM – Nevermind, it’s bullshit.

10:34 AM – Okay, so it’s not complete bullshit — I imagine this will be a funny story to tell Jimmy Fallon when I have to do the presser for when the book gets picked up as a movie. I think Jimmy and I will get along, might even be friends someday.

11:22 AM – I hit a wall. Is it too early to eat lunch yet? If I do, i’m just going to be hungry too soon. Maybe someone in my story needs to find out they are pregnant, that might help the story.

12:45 PM – How many days in a row is too many to eat the same hoagie from the same grocery store? Does my loyalty card feed the store some statistic that is going to make it easier for them to command my obedience when the New World Order takes over?

1:04 PM – Guillermo Del Toro and his immediately accessible brilliance can kiss my ass! It’s not fair!

2:34 PM – You’ve got two options, soldier: You can edit your manuscript or you can mow the lawn. You’ve chosen? The gas can in is in the garage.

3:35 PM – How can any author write without a perfectly manicured lawn? But I am dehydrated; you need to be perfectly hydrated to write great fiction. I should take a shower and shotgun three bottles of water. Also, my website looks like amateur bullshit, I should probably fix that.

5:05 PM – 2,000 words clocked in. I sincerely enjoy writing, I like getting emotions out of people and I’m happy with how this piece is proceeding. Maybe not. Maybe the critics are going to hate it. When they see how rigid this dialogue is, they are going to tear it to shreds. How is anyone ever going to take me seriously as a writer with such amateur showings like this?! If I can’t get my shit together and write a measely two-thousand words without looking like I’m trying to half-ass a tenth grade English assignment, how am I ever going to make a career out of forging great American lore?! WHY CAN’T I WRITE GOOD WORDS? WHY DON’T THE WORDS MAKE SENSE? Oh, look! Thor: Ragnarok is on Netflix! Life is good!

7:05 PM – I did good work today, I should have some ice cream as a reward.

10:00 PM – I sure do love all of these instructional videos on YouTube; maybe I could install my own cabinetry.

That’s my typical Saturday routine — some weekends I like to take a Saturday and indulge in some pretty nerdy fandom, but the core of the effort is still there: I’m writing.

Thank you all for your love and support and I’ll see you on your next trip across the Millerverse!

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