Another Year, Another…year

I could start talking about how goals were lost, intentions were well-intended, things were missed, and shit was not finished. But unless you want me to populate this entire post with more passive verbs and self-flagellation, I’m going to stop now and starting looking forward.

I could start talking about how goals were lost, intentions were well-intended, things were missed, and shit was not finished. But unless you want me to populate this entire post with more passive verbs and self-flagellation, I’m going to stop now and starting looking forward.

Typically I’m a self-reflective person. I have found much of my personal growth from this process and while my “Five Ways to Self-Reflect” blog post lurks somewhere in the distant future, I won’t be lying if I said that this knowledge-building practice was inspired by endless sessions of reading manga.

Yes Sensei!

Perhaps this year fewer manga will be read and more words will be written. Perhaps this year new challenges will be faced and new paths will be trodden. Perhaps it’s not worth fretting over an arbitrary date just because we consider this the beginning of one thing and the end of something else. Why can’t March 8th be the symbolic beginning of a new year? August 21st?

It doesn’t matter. I’m just trying to slink into the New Year Zeitgeist, seven days late, and firmly declare my 2019 goals in the hopes of riding that momentum train into a less disappointing December. I still have that damn anthology to finish – the one listed in the sidebar and the first two books of my series to start. The first one is outlined, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, because it’s been sitting and fermenting at the bottom of  stack of notebooks. Will this be the year? This will be the year. There is no next year. There is always only this year.

Before falling into some pseudo-philosophical ramble, I would just like to say “hello, how are you? I hope you had a nice holiday season.” Time to get to work.

I Know Me So Well

In which I remember that failing is part of winning, if not a prerequisite.

See, I knew I would fail. But failing is part of winning, it’s the early part, it’s the part where you’re getting your legs under you.

It’s the part
at the start
and not for the feint of heart.

And I went days without writing. I thought about my story (this is part of writing) and had a few idea dumps in varied text files (this is part of writing), but actual word-after-another writing, I hadn’t done. Until today.

But I KNEW I would do that. That’s why I set my expectations lower than 3,000 words a day, or even 1,000. I had to give myself chunks that I thought I could accomplish. I needed easier goals to make sure I could make them.

All climbs start on the lower rungs.

But that guilt, that pull, that twinge was there. And no amount of excuses about other things and other people and other distractions would wipe away the face that I didn’t make writing a priority for a couple of days. Until today.

And I feel so much better. And I will eat some ice cream. And I will, hopefully, be back tomorrow.

Untitled Novel as of 6/11/17: 1370 words

Yatta