Sometimes when I don't write for awhile, I find it even harder to write. Because time has passed and things have happened and my mind is filled with things to say and details to fill you in on. I think about breaking them down into bullet points i.e.
* Moved into new house
* We love it.
* The cats love it.
* Went on a trip to AZ
* It was fun.
* I'm like six months pregnant.
* I'm huge.
* I still feel kinda hot though.
* Brother moves in with us in about a week.
* I'm excited and kinda scared too.
* I love change.
* I hate change.
But I thought I disliked diary posts, even though that's what we're all really here for. And sometimes I think if you just detail your life, people find that more interesting than being all creative and write-y.
I don't think I'm leaving here. This blog. But I do find myself wondering what I'm doing here. What am I trying to accomplish. If anything. Maybe I am leaving. Let me think.
I recently passed my year-o-blogging mark, my 365 degrees, and I don't think I'm doing what I came here to do. I mean, I did do it. But I am looking for something else. I have a different idea of what to do. And I'm wondering if I should just leave this here. And move on to my other thing. It's blogging. But it's not blogging like this. It's more like career blogging. Which seems more practical. More useful. And a pet project of mine. I don't see the use in this anymore. Is this like a blogging crisis or something...idk. I've learned a lot here though. We'll see...
I'm not ready to leave this yet, but I needed to tell it how I felt.
Showing posts with label The Write Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Write Stuff. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
Operation Self-Discipline
So Dave and I are experimenting a bit with our lives. He's working his ass off. And due to the results of his hard work, we were able to free me from my bullshit pursuits (i.e. jobs that get me no nearer my dreams). It's been two months. Let me tell you about it...
I am bird. Taking my creativity into my palms, making it mine day in and day out. Yet. When your days are yours and yours alone, you can't just bask in the sun. You'll rot inside. And so. I've launched Operation Self-Discipline. Some days I win. Some days I fail.
My New Work Life
1) So, each day, I must write. Not blog. Write. For at least one hour.
I am working on a collection of twelve short stories. Fiction. I have almost two done. I think the first one sucks. I am in love with the second. Each day makes me more hopeful. Stronger.
I also take time each day to study writing. I read short stories, break down their structure, highlight and underline. I also read writing advice books--internalizing what sounds right.
2) I am putting paintings up on Etsy. I sold two paintings, just posted a third, almost done with the fourth. When I post it, I'll post pics. That's a promise. I just want my store to be more full when I unveil.
Each day I must also put time into my art. At least an hour. I swear, when my music is on and I have that brush in my hand, I'm so at peace--so in love with the world.
I try to study art daily too. Read the manual for my new DSLR camera. Ugh. So dry.
3) Healthy eating and exercise. See-saw on the healthy eating, but much better than a year ago. I also attend prenatal pilates twice a week. Prenatal yoga hopefully starts next week.
4) Volunteering. I volunteer at least once a week with Voice for Children. I work with a girl in foster care. I "help" her by simply being there. This whole paragraph seems gratutious. But truly, it's important to me to do something NOT for me.
And there it is.
I feel so blessed to have this opportunity to focus on writing and art (let alone health and altruism). It is the actualization of a lifelong dream. The process itself fills me to the brim with gratitude. I believe that dreams are possible. I believe that if you put in the time, you can manifest your goals. I thank God that I have a husband that believes the same thing. And that he believes in me.
On the downside, I'm hella lonely! Not only do we still lack a thick social network here in San Diego, but without work, I'm by myself ALL THE TIME! Due to my preggo situation, I can't even comfort myself with booze.
And so, it's Friday night--I turn to you!
I am bird. Taking my creativity into my palms, making it mine day in and day out. Yet. When your days are yours and yours alone, you can't just bask in the sun. You'll rot inside. And so. I've launched Operation Self-Discipline. Some days I win. Some days I fail.
My New Work Life
1) So, each day, I must write. Not blog. Write. For at least one hour.
I am working on a collection of twelve short stories. Fiction. I have almost two done. I think the first one sucks. I am in love with the second. Each day makes me more hopeful. Stronger.
I also take time each day to study writing. I read short stories, break down their structure, highlight and underline. I also read writing advice books--internalizing what sounds right.
2) I am putting paintings up on Etsy. I sold two paintings, just posted a third, almost done with the fourth. When I post it, I'll post pics. That's a promise. I just want my store to be more full when I unveil.
Each day I must also put time into my art. At least an hour. I swear, when my music is on and I have that brush in my hand, I'm so at peace--so in love with the world.
I try to study art daily too. Read the manual for my new DSLR camera. Ugh. So dry.
3) Healthy eating and exercise. See-saw on the healthy eating, but much better than a year ago. I also attend prenatal pilates twice a week. Prenatal yoga hopefully starts next week.
4) Volunteering. I volunteer at least once a week with Voice for Children. I work with a girl in foster care. I "help" her by simply being there. This whole paragraph seems gratutious. But truly, it's important to me to do something NOT for me.
And there it is.
I feel so blessed to have this opportunity to focus on writing and art (let alone health and altruism). It is the actualization of a lifelong dream. The process itself fills me to the brim with gratitude. I believe that dreams are possible. I believe that if you put in the time, you can manifest your goals. I thank God that I have a husband that believes the same thing. And that he believes in me.
On the downside, I'm hella lonely! Not only do we still lack a thick social network here in San Diego, but without work, I'm by myself ALL THE TIME! Due to my preggo situation, I can't even comfort myself with booze.
And so, it's Friday night--I turn to you!
Monday, December 7, 2009
The Hipster's Holiday Book-Giving Guide
Since we're all in the Christmas spirit, spending our hearts away and whistling to the classic holiday tunes, I thought I'd share ten of my fave books EVER (in case you're looking for gift ideas for you or others). These books touched my life in a profound way--either by blowing me away with their artfulness, enlightening my perspective on things, or just plain changing my life.
1. Rule of the Bone by Russell Banks - This book began my love affair with Russell Banks. This easy-to-read, coming-of-age tale of a troubled adolescent dabbling in drugs and homelessness displays all of the components I like in fiction: twisted, deep, vivid and well-written.
2. The Art of Happiness, A Handbook for Living - I've owned this book for atleast ten years, and it still sits near my bedside. The Dalai Lama, guided by psychologist Howard Cutler's questions, very clearly and simply explains the importance of compassion and how to cultivate it. It explains how to deal with suffering, overcome anger, and operate from a place of loving kindness.
3. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khalid Hosseini - While I loved his first book, "The Kite Runner," this book about modern Afghanistan (before, during, and "after" the Taliban's rule) shook me to the core. The haunting images in this book still make me shudder. While the history lesson enlightens readers, the personal story makes it sit like an anvil in the heart.
4. Student's Vegetarian Cookbook by Carole Raymond - At age 18, this was the first cookbook I ever bought. While I am not a vegetarian, I don't eat a ton of meat either. This book is just one of my favorites, years later!
It is so tattered and tore apart--it's sad. Many of the pages are burnt from when I accidently set the book on fire while crafting the very very scrumptious Broiled Zucchini Parmesan. I lost that recipe in the fire, but the survivors still make my mouth water. The recipes (think Easy Asparagus, Chipotle-Black Bean Chili, and Baked Bananas) are so quick and easy and tasty, ANYBODY would benefit from this book, not just students.
5. Loving Frank by Nancy Horan - This tale, based on extensive historical research, follows the intimate affair of the infamous American architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, and his well-spoken mistress. Not only do you get a deeper understanding of the eccentric genius of Mr. Wright, you read a beautiful and scandalous love story.
6. A Long Way Gone, Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah - Written by a former boy soldier who lost his family and was forced to join the "government army" in Sierra Leone at age 13, this memoir speaks about Beah's tragic childhood and some of the gruesome acts committed by himself and the army. Removed by UNICEF from the violent war at age sixteen, he talks about forgiving himself and trying to heal. This eye-opening book sheds light on the situation in Sierra Leone and the complex forces of its perpetual violence.
7. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger - O.k., the movie was pretty bad (minus the fact that Eric Bana is some pretty special eye candy). If you haven't seen it yet, or read the book, then please go purchase this book. Niffenegger's writing is artful and gorgeous and she crafts one of the most unique works of fiction I've read in a long time.
8. Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl - Frankl spent years enduring the horror of the Nazi death camps during WWII. His memoirs will disgust and enrage you as he details the unspeakable things he experienced. Also a renowned psychotherapist, Frankl's terrible experiences led him to craft a theory: man's motivation for living is the search for meaning. This is a philosophical and analytical book on everything from God, the afterlife, suffering, and ultimately, happiness.
9. Native Son by Richard Wright - A hefty classic, this fictitious tale follows a young black man in America who commits a horrific and senseless violent crime. It unapologetically weaves through the complex psychological and social fabric of race relations in the early 1900's in America. It's a thorough and thought-provoking work of genius.
10. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold - Go read this, quick, before the movie comes out! Like "The Time Traveler's Wife", I'm not sure how they're going to translate this heart-breaking and gorgeous work of prose to the screen. Either way, it won't be as good as the book, I promise you that. So go read it now. Easy-to-read, this book is really unique, sad, hopeful, and truly, lovely.
1. Rule of the Bone by Russell Banks - This book began my love affair with Russell Banks. This easy-to-read, coming-of-age tale of a troubled adolescent dabbling in drugs and homelessness displays all of the components I like in fiction: twisted, deep, vivid and well-written.
2. The Art of Happiness, A Handbook for Living - I've owned this book for atleast ten years, and it still sits near my bedside. The Dalai Lama, guided by psychologist Howard Cutler's questions, very clearly and simply explains the importance of compassion and how to cultivate it. It explains how to deal with suffering, overcome anger, and operate from a place of loving kindness.
3. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khalid Hosseini - While I loved his first book, "The Kite Runner," this book about modern Afghanistan (before, during, and "after" the Taliban's rule) shook me to the core. The haunting images in this book still make me shudder. While the history lesson enlightens readers, the personal story makes it sit like an anvil in the heart.
4. Student's Vegetarian Cookbook by Carole Raymond - At age 18, this was the first cookbook I ever bought. While I am not a vegetarian, I don't eat a ton of meat either. This book is just one of my favorites, years later!
It is so tattered and tore apart--it's sad. Many of the pages are burnt from when I accidently set the book on fire while crafting the very very scrumptious Broiled Zucchini Parmesan. I lost that recipe in the fire, but the survivors still make my mouth water. The recipes (think Easy Asparagus, Chipotle-Black Bean Chili, and Baked Bananas) are so quick and easy and tasty, ANYBODY would benefit from this book, not just students.
5. Loving Frank by Nancy Horan - This tale, based on extensive historical research, follows the intimate affair of the infamous American architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, and his well-spoken mistress. Not only do you get a deeper understanding of the eccentric genius of Mr. Wright, you read a beautiful and scandalous love story.
6. A Long Way Gone, Memoirs of a Boy Soldier by Ishmael Beah - Written by a former boy soldier who lost his family and was forced to join the "government army" in Sierra Leone at age 13, this memoir speaks about Beah's tragic childhood and some of the gruesome acts committed by himself and the army. Removed by UNICEF from the violent war at age sixteen, he talks about forgiving himself and trying to heal. This eye-opening book sheds light on the situation in Sierra Leone and the complex forces of its perpetual violence.
7. The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger - O.k., the movie was pretty bad (minus the fact that Eric Bana is some pretty special eye candy). If you haven't seen it yet, or read the book, then please go purchase this book. Niffenegger's writing is artful and gorgeous and she crafts one of the most unique works of fiction I've read in a long time.
8. Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl - Frankl spent years enduring the horror of the Nazi death camps during WWII. His memoirs will disgust and enrage you as he details the unspeakable things he experienced. Also a renowned psychotherapist, Frankl's terrible experiences led him to craft a theory: man's motivation for living is the search for meaning. This is a philosophical and analytical book on everything from God, the afterlife, suffering, and ultimately, happiness.
9. Native Son by Richard Wright - A hefty classic, this fictitious tale follows a young black man in America who commits a horrific and senseless violent crime. It unapologetically weaves through the complex psychological and social fabric of race relations in the early 1900's in America. It's a thorough and thought-provoking work of genius.
10. The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold - Go read this, quick, before the movie comes out! Like "The Time Traveler's Wife", I'm not sure how they're going to translate this heart-breaking and gorgeous work of prose to the screen. Either way, it won't be as good as the book, I promise you that. So go read it now. Easy-to-read, this book is really unique, sad, hopeful, and truly, lovely.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Day 74 - A New Way
As I reach the almost 20 percent of a year mark, I realize I need to re-evaluate. I keep writing about not reaching this or that. bleh blah blig.
I aim to still write everyday, but am moving away from the blog a day. I am reducing them. On the days I'm not doing this, I'll be working on my collection of short stories. I need to make that happen. I need time for them. I need words for them. Plus, I'll be giving you, my blog, my best ones, my fresh ones.
And there it is. I'll post periodically. At the very least--twice a week. At the very most--however many I wish.
This venue helps me construct things. It helps me craft my stories. It helps me learn how to weave emotions, to sew one thought throughout a day. It allow me to learn how to sieve an image, to soak it in dark or light. To make a negative into a positive. And archive it.
While I practice my writing here using the vehicle of my day-to-day life, I need the silence of my secret word processor to make a pound of paper. I want to give you something to hold. A book.
Here's to you blog. Let's tackle that to-do list...
I aim to still write everyday, but am moving away from the blog a day. I am reducing them. On the days I'm not doing this, I'll be working on my collection of short stories. I need to make that happen. I need time for them. I need words for them. Plus, I'll be giving you, my blog, my best ones, my fresh ones.
And there it is. I'll post periodically. At the very least--twice a week. At the very most--however many I wish.
This venue helps me construct things. It helps me craft my stories. It helps me learn how to weave emotions, to sew one thought throughout a day. It allow me to learn how to sieve an image, to soak it in dark or light. To make a negative into a positive. And archive it.
While I practice my writing here using the vehicle of my day-to-day life, I need the silence of my secret word processor to make a pound of paper. I want to give you something to hold. A book.
Here's to you blog. Let's tackle that to-do list...
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Day 63 - Therapy Session
O.k., so I've kind of stagnated on this whole 'write a book' thing. I need your advice.
Let's just talk through it...jumbled as it is...perhaps we'll find clarity...
I've always kind of vascillated between writing a book or writing a screenplay. That's kind of the first decision to make. Which medium? I like both. Over the last year, I've been focusing on a book for a few reasons. 1) I figured it'd be easier/quicker to publish than getting a screenplay made and 2) I find it easier to think and write from my own life. For example, in this blog, I write memoir-style. This style is obviously easier in a book form.
But the other day my very thoughtful and supportive Aunt V and Uncle P sent me some computer software that helps the user to structure and write a screenplay. As I browsed the back, it reignited my original dream--tackling the almighty screenplay. Perhaps that's been my speedbump lately; I'm waxing the wrong shoe.
By then, I just get all upset. I think to myself, if I can't even answer this question...then I'm a lost cause. So I shelve it for a a few. And then the yearning again...
O.k., let's say I can really really make a decision, screenplay or book. Well then, there's the next question. Fiction or Non? I like the ease of non-fiction. I feel more authentic. I own the thoughts, I can vouch for their accuracy, I don't have to fake the sequence of events, they just are what they are.
However, I like the depth I can reach with fiction. I can speak deeper, reach truths and heart-aches that I can't even touch using my own life. I can manipulate more and bleed more. There's nothing to protect, it's fiction. But, the downside of fiction is: I've quasi-tried and had a harder time dreaming up a fictional scenario. My mind often draws a blank.
Ok, last one, and here's the big one...What to write ABOUT? I have LOTS of ideas. Of which, I can't really seem to COMMIT to any of them. What would it take to follow through on one?
I keep coming back to one of them...so I should probably go with that, it's just a matter of sculpting it really. My Aunt V gave me a great piece of advice today as well about writing in short story style, validating thoughts I've been pondering.
So, after ALL THAT, there's one more thing. Writing this blog actually takes quite a bit of my writing energy. Do I have the time or energy to write the larger piece as well while writing this blog? I'd like to do both, but can't fathom where the time might come from. Especially since I'm working more than ever lately--almost full-time.
Have I lost you yet? Are you losing your patience with my disjointed ramblings? My frantic thought patterns?
Let's recap:
Screenplay or Book?
Fiction or Non-fiction?
This Idea or That idea?
Help! This dream is important to me. Why? I don't know. Who cares why. It just is. It pesters me and I want to see the end of it so bad. Why doesn't that just carry me through to the conclusion?
ARGGGGG....
P.S. Of course you'll be in the forward ;-)
Let's just talk through it...jumbled as it is...perhaps we'll find clarity...
I've always kind of vascillated between writing a book or writing a screenplay. That's kind of the first decision to make. Which medium? I like both. Over the last year, I've been focusing on a book for a few reasons. 1) I figured it'd be easier/quicker to publish than getting a screenplay made and 2) I find it easier to think and write from my own life. For example, in this blog, I write memoir-style. This style is obviously easier in a book form.
But the other day my very thoughtful and supportive Aunt V and Uncle P sent me some computer software that helps the user to structure and write a screenplay. As I browsed the back, it reignited my original dream--tackling the almighty screenplay. Perhaps that's been my speedbump lately; I'm waxing the wrong shoe.
By then, I just get all upset. I think to myself, if I can't even answer this question...then I'm a lost cause. So I shelve it for a a few. And then the yearning again...
O.k., let's say I can really really make a decision, screenplay or book. Well then, there's the next question. Fiction or Non? I like the ease of non-fiction. I feel more authentic. I own the thoughts, I can vouch for their accuracy, I don't have to fake the sequence of events, they just are what they are.
However, I like the depth I can reach with fiction. I can speak deeper, reach truths and heart-aches that I can't even touch using my own life. I can manipulate more and bleed more. There's nothing to protect, it's fiction. But, the downside of fiction is: I've quasi-tried and had a harder time dreaming up a fictional scenario. My mind often draws a blank.
Ok, last one, and here's the big one...What to write ABOUT? I have LOTS of ideas. Of which, I can't really seem to COMMIT to any of them. What would it take to follow through on one?
I keep coming back to one of them...so I should probably go with that, it's just a matter of sculpting it really. My Aunt V gave me a great piece of advice today as well about writing in short story style, validating thoughts I've been pondering.
So, after ALL THAT, there's one more thing. Writing this blog actually takes quite a bit of my writing energy. Do I have the time or energy to write the larger piece as well while writing this blog? I'd like to do both, but can't fathom where the time might come from. Especially since I'm working more than ever lately--almost full-time.
Have I lost you yet? Are you losing your patience with my disjointed ramblings? My frantic thought patterns?
Let's recap:
Screenplay or Book?
Fiction or Non-fiction?
This Idea or That idea?
Help! This dream is important to me. Why? I don't know. Who cares why. It just is. It pesters me and I want to see the end of it so bad. Why doesn't that just carry me through to the conclusion?
ARGGGGG....
P.S. Of course you'll be in the forward ;-)
Friday, July 3, 2009
Day 23 - So You Think You Can Write
My book blows. I'm on page 13, and I'm getting to that stage where I just want to chuck it out with window! Arg. This happens every single time. Who wants to read this stuff?
A swirling swarm of ideas start to clutter my brain. As I type a page, I think of other themes and plots. Ones that are far superior to my current one. And it hinders me. Makes me want to spit on my screen.
But I know better now. I've read that on your first book, you just gotta plow through, and get to the other side. Don't worry about editing or outlining. Just go. Once you get the the end you can sculpt it. Don't let the size overwhelm you. Of course there's an equal number of advice sites advising just the opposite. But hey. I just pick and choose what rings right.
So what I normally do, is start over. I leave my 15 pages in an abandoned virtual folder somewhere. I take a different idea, and write away. UNTIL I get to about the same place, then I abandon yet again. Rinse, repeat.
This time. This year. It's going to be different. Sucks or no sucks, I'm going after the epilogue.
But I'm just saying, I hate it. I hate the whole thing.
A swirling swarm of ideas start to clutter my brain. As I type a page, I think of other themes and plots. Ones that are far superior to my current one. And it hinders me. Makes me want to spit on my screen.
But I know better now. I've read that on your first book, you just gotta plow through, and get to the other side. Don't worry about editing or outlining. Just go. Once you get the the end you can sculpt it. Don't let the size overwhelm you. Of course there's an equal number of advice sites advising just the opposite. But hey. I just pick and choose what rings right.
So what I normally do, is start over. I leave my 15 pages in an abandoned virtual folder somewhere. I take a different idea, and write away. UNTIL I get to about the same place, then I abandon yet again. Rinse, repeat.
This time. This year. It's going to be different. Sucks or no sucks, I'm going after the epilogue.
But I'm just saying, I hate it. I hate the whole thing.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Day 22 - City in the Wire
I surfed the blogosphere for a long while today; I just kinda of swam from one brightly lit site to the other. The words ran together, and the voices were sometimes similar, sometimes distinct. What are we all doing here, I thought.
Our voices crescendo together in this busy makeshift city. We chatter and describe. We share little bitty pieces of our lives, or we own up to what pieces we have left after being broken. 'I own this square space in the world's imagination,' we say. And we prove it by staking domains.
The world has changed. A whole new landscape is defined by our modems. We communicate unfathomably fast and furious; each voice is a unique sound in the overall opera of life. And we each have access to a microphone.
It's beautiful and overwhelming. Loud and truthful (even in its untruths).
As for what it all means, I (we) don't pretend to understand.
BUT today I searched for voices that moved me; I'm on the lookout for virtual friends. If anyone knows of any blog I might revel in, please link me. I'm o.k. with this solicitation.
All in all. I know. I need to leave words here. For others to gather and perhaps remember. Perhaps to forget. For now, I'm write here.
...And she runs head-long into the heaving crowd.
Our voices crescendo together in this busy makeshift city. We chatter and describe. We share little bitty pieces of our lives, or we own up to what pieces we have left after being broken. 'I own this square space in the world's imagination,' we say. And we prove it by staking domains.
The world has changed. A whole new landscape is defined by our modems. We communicate unfathomably fast and furious; each voice is a unique sound in the overall opera of life. And we each have access to a microphone.
It's beautiful and overwhelming. Loud and truthful (even in its untruths).
As for what it all means, I (we) don't pretend to understand.
BUT today I searched for voices that moved me; I'm on the lookout for virtual friends. If anyone knows of any blog I might revel in, please link me. I'm o.k. with this solicitation.
All in all. I know. I need to leave words here. For others to gather and perhaps remember. Perhaps to forget. For now, I'm write here.
...And she runs head-long into the heaving crowd.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Day 10 - These Thoughts are Throw-Aways
Today is quiet thus-far. I'm writing this earlier than normal as I actually have a social engagement to go to this evening! (clapping and cheers) Some friends of Dave's, a couple, who I really dig, are throwing some kind of birthday bash. I am giddy with excitement. This sounds so desperate, but seriously, I'm lonely out here. And plus, I get to wear a dress.
I'm on day six of not smoking, and the physical withdrawals are pretty calm, no violent uprising. The new screw is the mental aspect, that swoops in after the physical. I can't even count on my fingers how many times I've envisioned myself on the back porch today, looking off in the distance, cigarette in hand. The vision is alluring and lethal. I reach for more coffee.
My body has decided I've done enough for now. Congratulating me on my accomplishments thus far. But today the visions of putting down everything are vivid. A little lazy voice in me says, "Do you realize the kind of commitment it takes to be happy? You don't have it in you..."
I finished my "page a day" goal for today, but I think that's the kicker. I can't see beyond it. The thing with the writing is that I really really care. I kind of sort of believe it might just be all that I have left. Which for some reason, registers any kind of action as purely terrifying.
Some people, I believe, are afraid of failure. And therefore never try. However, others are actually more paralyzed by the idea of success. I've decided that I can't decide which one I fear more: success or failure. I'm convinced it's a healthy dose of both.
I'm on day six of not smoking, and the physical withdrawals are pretty calm, no violent uprising. The new screw is the mental aspect, that swoops in after the physical. I can't even count on my fingers how many times I've envisioned myself on the back porch today, looking off in the distance, cigarette in hand. The vision is alluring and lethal. I reach for more coffee.
My body has decided I've done enough for now. Congratulating me on my accomplishments thus far. But today the visions of putting down everything are vivid. A little lazy voice in me says, "Do you realize the kind of commitment it takes to be happy? You don't have it in you..."
I finished my "page a day" goal for today, but I think that's the kicker. I can't see beyond it. The thing with the writing is that I really really care. I kind of sort of believe it might just be all that I have left. Which for some reason, registers any kind of action as purely terrifying.
Some people, I believe, are afraid of failure. And therefore never try. However, others are actually more paralyzed by the idea of success. I've decided that I can't decide which one I fear more: success or failure. I'm convinced it's a healthy dose of both.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Day Nine - A Clearing
Today zipped by me, mind abuzz. Started to research all the other goals on my list and got excited. Since I'm day five of not smoking, and full-speed ahead on my exercise goals, I'm ready for a new challenge. What to do, what to do?
Tomorrow I'm going to start writing my "page a day." I've always wanted to write a book, but never followed through on it. Many started, many abandoned. I love to leave my hopes and dreams at about the 20-page mark. Right about the time I realize that---*gasp*---there's no f ' ing plot. Minor detail. BUT this time will be different! Plot or not plot, I'm powering through ;-) Full speed ahead, she says with feigned gusto. And cries herself to sleep. Why am I so afraid of this one?
Tomorrow I'm going to start writing my "page a day." I've always wanted to write a book, but never followed through on it. Many started, many abandoned. I love to leave my hopes and dreams at about the 20-page mark. Right about the time I realize that---*gasp*---there's no f ' ing plot. Minor detail. BUT this time will be different! Plot or not plot, I'm powering through ;-) Full speed ahead, she says with feigned gusto. And cries herself to sleep. Why am I so afraid of this one?
Pause...
Went to a hilly nearby town called Poway for a belly-dancing class as my exercise today. Felt sexy and slightly harem-esque. Imagined myself full-garb, dancing in unison, jingle-jangle jewerly looped around exposed midsection, in some seedy Mideastern backalley bar full of gold and fuschia pillows. Then I looked in the mirror, and sadly realized I didn't have the grace (yet) to make it. Dreams dashed.
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