Let’s try this again

It’s the second day of a new year.

I’ve had this book in my hands for three days. Already it’s marked up, pages dog-eared, margins filled with notes and ideas. I am inspired.

My head is ready to explode.

The year that’s gone was one of amazement. I surprised myself. I let go and allowed the river of life to carry me on its current. I still feel as if I am on the edge of something I cannot identify.

Again.

A marathon runner told me to hang on to my running goals, even if it seems I’m nowhere closer to them than when I started. He told me it can take up to seven years  to achieve a goal. And that’s OK. What? It’s not OK. Make it OK.

Apply those words to anything: running, writing, cooking, whatever. I am aspiring to 1,000 words most days. That’s double the typical blog post.

I’ll leave you with this quote from the book I’m reading. It’s my starting point. What’s yours?

“So okay – there you are in your room with the shade down and the door shut and the plug pulled out of the base of the telephone. You’ve blown up your TV and committed yourself to a thousand words a day, come hell or high water. Now comes the big question: What are you going to write about? And the equally big answer: Anything you damn well want. ”
― Stephen KingOn Writing

 

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A summer in twenty sentences

Today, after almost a year of running, I finally clocked a 10:15 mile.

My goal is to run a nine-minute mile.

When I began, it took me almost 15 minutes to run one mile.

In July I ran my first 5K obstacle race and jumped over fire.

I trained for this by running at noon on 90-degree days and logging endless hours on the treadmill.

I rode my bike for many miles under the hot sun, through raging thunderstorms, at night, drunk (once; not so proud of that) and with group of spandex-clad, clip-shoed folks, who when you know them ahead of time are nice but sometimes are a bit snooty with those of us wearing cotton and lace-ups.

My husband says, based on the number of pictures I take of it, I should just admit I’m in love with my bike.

One thing I learned this summer is that the moment you let go of something it works out just fine either way.

Another thing I learned is letting go is not easy.

I edited a 75,000-word manuscript in June and July, which killed my interest in working on the memoir this year.

Doing the right thing rarely feels good, such as when I cancelled my trip to Colorado this summer.

I’ve decided the best way to write for future use is to document every joyful, painful, frustrating, interesting thing happening now.

The plot and hook will come later, right?

I am blessed with a great community of friends and supporters.

After three-year hiatus, we finally had a serious primitive camping weekend.

I met a very big owl deep in the woods as I was gathering firewood. We had a stare down, which still gives me chills when I think about it.

I had another standoff with a porcupine, which was nowhere near as spiritual.

I did not cry at my oldest daughter’s high school commencement ceremony in June.

In August, I found my first legitimate full-length, corkscrew-crazy, gray hair poking out of my head.

Then, I cried.

 

 

 

NoMoPoMo

 

Last day of NaBloPoMo

Last day of NaBloPoMo

 

 

Thirty days ago I was in a Las Vegas hotel room. It was nearing midnight. I had a fever. Somehow all those elements came together and created a temporary insanity that made me decide to participate in National Blog Posting Month, affectionately known as NaBloPoMo.

When the fever broke and I found myself back home I had a few days of cursing my impulsive side. Thankfully I’m also a bit obsessive-compulsive. These elements worked together to guilt me into following through with my pledge of 30 posts in 30 days.

There were no repercussions if I failed.

Here I am 30 days later. A little bit of carpal tunnel, a dirtier house, a job search that has yet to commence, Halloween pumpkins still on display, but whatever. I have 30 blog posts in a row to brag about to ….. um … the homeless guy in front of the supermarket? 

Will I get a prize? A T-shirt? Maybe a nice badge to display on my site? Who knows. 

Here’s my take away on the experience:

Discipline: I wrote every day. 

Achievement: I set a goal and reached it.

Insight: Big decisions that impact your future should not be made in Las Vegas. 

Community: While I connected with a few new writers and found some useful groups, NaBloPoMo wasn’t the experience I thought it would be. Mea culpa? Possibly. I’m not sure I worked the community to full advantage. I found that writing every day got in the way of involvement. So many blogs, so little time to read them. 

In the end, I’m somehow a little bit better, a little more enriched for having taken this challenge. That’s worth more than a hotel room in Vegas.

Send in the clones

What have I done?

In a moment of insanity…

No, I was am sane. Can’t use that old trick.

In a moment of false bravado.

Yeah, that’s it. In a moment of puffed-up ego, I decided to sign up for NaBloPoMo. That’s membership in the National Blog Posting Month club. That means one post a day for 30 days.

You see, I don’t seem to know when to say when. If life were a pie-eating contest, I’d be vomiting  coconut creme right now.

Seriously.  I need discipline in my life right now. I figure having a daily deadline reminiscent of my 18-year career as a writer and copy editor might snap me back into a workplace mindset.

It’s been two years since I left the workplace. I am a recovering workaholic. After two years, I’ve learned how to be a work-avoidant. The thought of work sends me screaming out of the room. Yet, it is a step I must take.

So, here goes. Send in the clones, because I’ll surely need at least two to get through this month.