Published on May 1, 2017
A Day in the Life of Author D.E. Haggerty
An ordinary day in my life? This is going to be easy, I thought. I grabbed my agenda to get started and promptly began to freak out. In addition to a mess of scribbles here there and everywhere, my agenda is covered in three different highlighter colors: pink for promo opportunities for my own books, green for private engagements, and orange for book reviews I need to do. And then there’s the to-do list as well as several post-its with more tasks I need to somehow accomplish written on them. Ordinary day? I’m not sure that exists at the moment. But wait! No one said I had to write about an ordinary day in my life.
Let’s start this all over then, shall we?
My day always starts early. I may be grumpy as all get out in the morning and not want to actually converse with anyone, but I love to get my butt behind the computer and write in the morning. If I have a tennis match or boot camp class scheduled, I’ll get up an hour earlier to make sure I have at least three hours behind the computer before I need to leave the house. These early hours are when I try to work on my work in progress. Whether that works out or not, you can rest assured that a huge cup of coffee will be close by.
After I hopefully – fingers crossed – get a chapter written in whatever manuscript I’m currently working on, I finally allow my eyes to wander to the dog. You can’t look at the dog before then or he’ll want to go out RIGHT NOW! I hate getting out of my pajamas, but it’s necessary when you live in the city and walk the dog in the park. I don’t brush my hair or put on any make-up, however, and my clothes usually consist of a pair of ripped jeans and t-shirt. I’m sure the neighbors think I’m crazy since I live in a hoity-toity neighborhood. Seriously, I once ran into the King’s brother in the supermarket.
As soon as the dog has relieved himself, played with some puppies, and embarrassed me by refusing to listen to my commands or just plain crying, it’s back to work for me. Well, unless I’m going to play tennis, attend a boot camp class, or have a meeting for my duties as Vice-President of the American Women’s Club here in The Hague. Whenever I do manage to get my behind back to the computer, it’s time to work on my blog. My Readsalot blog – where I promote other authors – is updated daily. My personal blog – aptly titled My Musings – is only updated two to three times a week. Blogging takes up an hour or two of my time every day. In addition to writing and posting the blogs, I visit other blogs I follow and comment or like as appropriate.
Now it’s time for the fun stuff. Not. Marketing is the bane of my existence. I’m sure I’m not the first indie author to say that! I’m constantly switching up how I market. I may be searching for new bloggers to beg for spotlight posts or reviews. Or maybe I’m reading Goodreads posts on how to market. I may even be trying out a new marketing service.
In between all the above stuff, I update my social media accounts and spend some time interacting with my followers.
By the time I’ve written a chapter, blogged, and done some marketing, lunch has come and gone and the dog is back to giving me puppy dog eyes. Yep, it’s time for another walk. If I’m not too stressed, I’ll take him to the forest smack dab in the middle of the city that’s only a block from my house. After his walk, I try to spend some time reading a book for review. To be perfectly honest, though, that doesn’t always happen. It’s usually around 3 p.m. when I return from the walk and, considering I start work at 6 a.m., I’m often ready for a nap right about now.
Before I know it, dinnertime has arrived and with it, the end of my work day. I’ll spend some time on social media before I go to bed, but, otherwise, my ‘work day’ is done, and the fun can begin. Mostly fun is spent reading a book. Yep, after spending the entire day working on my writing career, I’ll pick up a book and read. Because I’m a nerd like that.
Re-reading this to myself, I realize I’ve written what my
ideal day looks like. Reality is similar. Sometimes.
After twenty minutes on the bike, I’m ready to go home. I know I’m supposed to do that circuit thingy with the machines, but I can skip it for this once. No one needs to know. I slowly sneak my way to the women’s locker room.
“Hey, Everly.”
Crap. Gabe’s standing right in front of the door to my freedom. I wave. Yep, I’m a total dork. “Hi.”
“I saw you out there on the bike. Looking good.” He winks. Damn, he looks absolutely scrumptious standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. Trust me, it’s an impressive show of muscles. Not huge like a body builder but big enough to grab onto. “Looking for your clipboard?”
And there goes any chance I have of sneaking out of the gym. “Just refilling my water bottle before moving onto the weights.” I hold up my obviously full water bottle and try not to cringe.
“Sure, babe, but make sure you get your weight training done as well. A woman with muscles is hot.” With another wink, he takes off.
Did he seriously wink at me? Is this part of the personal trainer service? Flirt with the customers to ensure they want to do your bidding? Even in my head that sounded crazy. That hot man of muscles would never want me and my jiggly bits. I shake my head and force my legs to the personal trainers’ section to grab my clipboard.
If I thought the bike was boring, I was wrong. Doing a circuit of weight machines is what’s boring. I should download some podcasts or something. Or maybe some books on tape? Do they hire men with scorching hot voices to read the male parts in romance novels? Definitely need to do some research.
I quickly towel off the last machine and grab my water bottle. I stand from picking up my clipboard and nearly run straight into someone. “Shit! I didn’t realize anyone was standing there. Did you want this machine?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “How are you doing, Everly?”
It’s the guy I ran into on Wednesday. Shoot – what was his name again? “Um, hi.” If that’s not embarrassing enough, I do a little wave but the clipboard is still in my hand and I end up smacking him in the stomach. Thank goodness, I missed any important bits. “Shit. Sorry.”
He laughs and grabs the clipboard from my hand, presumably before I can do any more damage. “It’s Carter. Do you want to grab a smoothie?” My face scrunches up at the thought of a smoothie. He chuckles. “Or a coffee or something?”
“Um. I was going to head home like this.” With my now free hand, I indicate my ratty gym clothes.
Carter shrugs. “That’s okay. We can get a quick drink at the bar here.”
I can’t exactly say no after I ran into the guy and then hit him. “Okay, let me grab my stuff.”
He smiles and nods. I rush off with my thoughts whirling. Is he just being nice? Friendly? Or is this like a date thing? I’m not ready to date. Do I tell him that? Crap. It’s only a coffee. It doesn’t have to mean anything. But what if it does mean something? Can I give myself a concussion from thinking in circles?
I grew-up reading everything I could get my grubby hands on, from my mom's Harlequin romances, to Nancy Drew, to Little Women. When I wasn't flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although on the odd occasion I did manage to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. After surviving the army experience, I went back to school and got my law degree. I jumped ship and joined the hubby in the Netherlands before the graduation ceremony could even begin. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. But being a lawyer really wasn’t my thing, so I quit (again!) and went off to Germany to start a B&B. Turns out being a B&B owner wasn’t my thing either. I polished off that manuscript languishing in the attic before deciding to follow the husband to Istanbul where I decided to give the whole writer-thing a go. But ten years was too many to stay away from my adopted home. I packed up again and moved to The Hague where I’m currently working on my next book. I hope I’ll always be working on my next book.
Fat girl Begone! is my eleventh book.
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