It’s turned into a chilly but beautiful day here. I spent the last six hours on a marathon house cleaning session and I’m pretty beat. I’m going to read a bit more of Blake Charleton’s Spellwright (which I am very much enjoying) and then I’m going to take the boys to see Clash of the Titans tonight. We’re going to see the 2D version since I’ve heard from multiple sources that the 3D version is atrocious. The movie wasn’t filmed in 3D and apparently the conversion process leaves a lot to be desired. I’ve also heard the movie is somewhat disappointing but I still want to see it for myself. I’ll report back tomorrow.

- written on my iPad

Well, okay, not really. I was a clean freak before I was a writer. But not much before. Both seemed to have started uncoiling from my DNA at some point in high school. And now that I’m thinking about it, I guess I can’t say I was a clean freak first. They may have arrived at basically the same time.

I know what you’re thinking: Forbes, what the hell are you talking about? What do writing and cleaning have in common?

Answer: Absolutely nothing at all!

And that’s kind of the point. Here’s my (somewhat twisted) logic on this:

Writing a novel takes a long time. The core idea might be rattling around in your head for months or years before you start to write it down. Then there’s the time — again, at least several months — of figuring out the plot, characters, themes, etc. Then (for me) there’s writing an outline, and finally a draft of the book itself.

But even then you’re not done. You can tinker with it, rewrite, polish, rewrite again. If you’re lucky enough to have it accepted by a publisher, there are changes your editor will suggest (these are on top of the changes your agent has already probably suggested). You will have to review the copy-edited manuscript, and then the final proof copies. It will take literally years from the initial idea to the book reaching bookstore shelves.

So yeah, yeah, whatever, Forbes, you still haven’t explained how this ties to being a clean freak!

The gist of the above is that books take a long time to write, and if they never get published they never feel “done” even if you abandon them. That last, final step is hanging out there, forever incomplete.

But I can spend a couple of hours cleaning my house, and when I’m done it’s done! I have accomplished something, World! Hear me roar! I get a feeling of satisfaction and closure that for me is a pretty good payoff for a few hours spent vacuuming and dusting and mopping and scrubbing. It doesn’t hurt that I consider dust to be my arch-nemesis — I’ve been known to walk around with a Swiffer duster in one hand and my phone in the other, annihilating my enemies while chatting with my mom about her latest luncheon with the crazy Red Hat ladies.

So there you have it! The reason why writing has made me a clean freak!