I hate deadlines. Just the thought of a deadline makes me shut down in total rebellion. This must be done by this date or else! I've yet to see what the or else is and luckily when I haven't met my deadlines my publisher has been very understanding but still, I just hate them.
I think I understand the reason why now. When turning in my last book, Twist, which will be out in February, I ran up against the brick wall of deadlines. The book was coming along great and would have been done early when my editor threw a kink in the works and said take out all Vampire references. Two hundred pages into the manuscipt and I had to re-evaluate the story and get creative in a hurry. My editor was great and we worked it out and then my dad was diagnosed with cancer. I lost two months, responding to his emergencies, trying to write in hospital rooms, and all the time lost in traveling to and from his home. Plus mentally it was impossible to write. Miracuously, I was only two weeks late on my deadline, but we were already cutting it close and then the book is up against the wall as far as how quickly things have to be done in order for it to be on the shelves come February.
I got my edits from my editor and was allowed two weeks to do them. Once again, I lost a week with my dad but got them in on time. And this past week I just did the page proofs and realized there was so much more to this world to be explored, if only I'd had the time to pursue it. I feel like the story is incomplete, in my mind. There's so much more I want to develop, so much more to explore, so much history to write. If only there was time.
But now I have another deadline. It's March 1 and I've only got three pages written so far. I know come the first of the year I'm going to be in trouble because I can't concentrate now.
I hate deadlines.