I am somewhat embarrassed to say I haven't written much on my book. I have been thinking on plot points, but actual pages written, not much. I have been writing ideas down that I come up with, to add later. Information about characters, plot lines, dialogue, and 'bits', for lack of a better word. These 'bits' are things like names of bands, (there is a plot part that has to do with music), and so I write names of bands, and titles of songs. While this isn't "writing", it at least keeps me thinking about what I am going to do.
The funny part of this, I have no problem with keeping notes. I have been keeping them on a scratch pad, which I keep turned over, so I don't write things like a grocery list or some such on it. I keep it with my magazines, and didn't think that it was a big deal...
I was ready to leave to go shopping, and Husband pipes up, you forgot your list.
Nooo, I have the list in my hand, hon...
He then picks up the scratch pad. No, you were just writing on this one, the one that says...
He then actually READS the list, which is where I had just written down two names for rock/punk bands, to wit: Angel Poisoner, and Exploding A**holes. He turned the list back over, and with a completely straight face, said "No, I don't think that's your shopping list."
Then I heard him mutter something. I swear I heard, "At least I hope not."
I managed to get out of the house before I laughed.
I noticed yesterday that SMIL had picked up the pad and looked at it. This morning, I decided that the scratch pad was going to be in the back room for the time being. She said nothing about it. In fact, if you would look at the list, it is just random words and phrases. I really don't know if she paid any attention, as she was just looking for something to write on, and I had filled a page with my scribbled notes.
That, indeed, might be the saving grace of the situation, as my writing was 'get it down', not 'write for someone else to read'.
Buuuuut, it is now less accessible to the general populace of the house. Mostly because I really don't want to explain why I have written some of the oddball things I have. Because, let's face it, explaining "Exploding A**holes" to my SMIL isn't first on my list of things to do.
Even if it is relatively innocent.