Take That, Gloomy Monday!

It's Monday. I can't get warm despite layers of fleece and wool. The sun is hidden from my beloved Colorado sky. My inner thermostat is approaching Grumpy.


But I shall not give in. I shall make this a productive day. I will finish up critiques! I will vacuum! I will do taxes! I will dig wells and harvest rice and build barns!

So There.

All is not lost: Resolutions part two

How did I do in my pre-resolutions? Why, thanks for asking. I failed probably half of them.

Writing every weekday at 10
Did it for a few days, then had to juggle the times. I did, however, get much better at sneaking in sentences here and paragraphs there in between opening presents and making crepes and playing Clue.

Practicing every weekday at 2:30
I kept having to change the time for appointments and volunteer schedule

TKD and exercise
Lots of work before my midterm and then there was baking and there were parties and...

Housework
When I reviewed my pre-resolutions mid-month, I realized this was the most neglected aspect and scrambled to make up for the neglect. But like brushing teeth, housework is something that has to be done consistently instead of in bouts of mad activities spaced too far apart.

And here I thought I was choosing things I could succeed in, but I misjudged my ability to not to stick to a plan. Sure I can blame it on December and festivities and having two kids underfoot, but no amount of blaming can change the fact that I didn't do what I thought I would.

What does this tell me? Well, that new habits are monstrous things and that I have an infinitely creative mind when it comes to procrastinating.

But all is not lost. I found a pattern with my procrastinating. And knowing my enemy is the first step at conquering it I say. Here is my weapon:

Every day, I will do something that I really do not want to do.

I am also going to steal Story Queen's resolution, which is

to laugh more.

And, one more, that I started doing for the past few years:

Cut 'em some slack

What do you think? Do you think I'll succeed?

Musicspeak: Bach and Iron Maiden, part IIb

Imagine, if you will, that someone I just met finds out I am a writer and asks, "What do you write?"

Some answers:
"I write fiction."
Reaction:

"I write middle-grade and young adult fiction."
Reaction:

"I write research papers on mid-twentieth century analytical philosophers."
Reaction:

"I write romance."
Reaction:

"I write novels based on the characters from Star Wars and Star Trek: Next Generation."
Reaction:

"I write literary novels and short stories."
Reaction:

"I write about people who routinely experience strong premonitions of disasters before they occur."
Reaction:

How did you react? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'd love to have a sampling of what people think in reaction to these answers.

Some labels are benign: "fiction" for example. But some others carry heavier implications.

But here is the thing, just because I am not interested in reading about people who may be able to predict disasters with their psychic or other powers tells me nothing about the quality of the writing. In my old critique group was a writer whose writing I admired. He prefaced one of his new works sheepishly by telling us it was fan fiction. I didn't know what fan fiction meant at the time, and I didn't understand his attitude. In the same way, another member was always apologetic about her book being a romance. But these writers are good, no matter the genre, I enjoyed their stories.

So, back to the question of why use labels. I hope this is one answer: labels and categories help define what we do and help us make decisions. And it may even open the channel for further discussion. Say you like philosophy but don't care much for writing that characterizes Continental philosophy, you'd jump all over yourself to talk to this person about analytical philosophy. I wouldn't, but you may.

So what am I trying to say?

I am trying to say that labels are necessary, not adequate, but necessary, and that the main reason they fall short is the people hold many different kinds of opinions and prejudices, carefully examined or otherwise.

I am also trying to say that even though I focused on art music in my original post, I am not making a statement about its worth compared to other types of music. I focused on it because it is the kind of music that gives me joy, engages me mind and soul, and allows me to feel deeply. It expresses something I can relate to; it expresses something bigger than me; it expresses the emotions and lives of people who lived hundreds of years ago. And one reason I am able to reap such wonderful rewards, besides being given an innate attraction to it, is that I've had the privilege of being exposed to outstanding performances and of studying the music. Would I feel this way about this music had I not been given these gifts? Probably not.

I hope you'll tell me what you think, and come back for the next, and last installment of this exploration.

An update on my endurance adventure

Since I received so many well wishes when I posted about my struggle with my non-stamina body and my quest to conquer it with the baby-step of getting a brown belt, I thought I'd give you an update.

First, brown belt: earned. What did I have to do? Seven different forms (a form is a choreographed series of moves that involve kicks, punches, blocks, etc.) which come up to 220 moves in total + mock sparring. I completed every form with only one bobbled kick. My yells did, however, sound progressively more like moans as the forms got longer and harder but I could still breathe at the end.

This was the sweetest belt I'd ever earned because it was significantly more demanding than the belt before.


Two days later, I competed at a regional tournament and got first place in my age group. Not a huge group but a nice pat on the back nevertheless.



Cloud nine. All of that.

Best case scenario: this successful attempt at a goal that had seemed out of reach would inspire a new goal and energize an on-going fitness routine.

Real case scenario: getting sick after all the excitement and extra strenuous work-outs.


The week after the Big Weekend of testing and tournament, I was still carried along by the leftover high and could excuse myself for feeling winded because of the sickness. But the couple of weeks after that, it felt as if I had never improved my endurance at all. I couldn't run for even two minutes, I was breathing hard on the elliptical on the usual settings, I couldn't finish doing all the forms.

Had I used up all the cumulative hard work in one testing and now had to start again? Or had the one week of being sick and not exercising canceled everything ? Or had I been carried merely on adrenaline and wishful thinking that could not be sustained?

TKD classes during those weeks were torturous. I kept having to take breaks. While everyone else in my sparring class was still bouncing on their feet and laughing during their third match, I had to sit down and remove all my gear because I was over-heated and my heart was leaping out. The worst came three weeks after the new session began. In the middle of practicing a new form, I got dizzy and landed right on my well-padded dorsal area. (Bonus for anyone who can tell me which character from a book I highlighted recently on my blog discovered the use of this term.) I just sat there, stunned, at how weak I felt. And then I felt angry and disappointment.

My instructor asked about my diet and hydration and told me to take it easy. My fellow students patted me on the back. I went out after class and got a large, blended, whole milk mocha and stewed for the rest of the afternoon. And stayed stewing and not exercising for a few days after that.

Then I got my sneakers back on and decided that if I couldn't run, I'd just walk. If I couldn't finish doing my forms, I'd just do however many I could. If my regular settings on the elliptical were too hard, I'd dial it back to minimal. I simply had to get back out on my feet and ignore the questions of why I felt so unconditioned and weak. Or if I would ever get anywhere. The only certainty I knew was that doing anything was better than doing nothing.

This week I am feeling better, although what I am able to do is far from what I had been able to do a month ago. Who knows why. It's frustrating but if I don't put a lid on "but I could do better before!" and keep moving forward, then the two months of working toward a goal I didn't think I could was just a fluke. And that is not acceptable.


[An afterword}

I had started writing this post a week ago but couldn't finish it. I came back to it today because I'm stuck, stuck, STUCK on my current revision. The feeling is almost identical to what I felt few weeks ago. Writing this post has turned out to be therapeutic. Life sure has a way to using different experiences to teach us the same thing. And the thing I have to learn now is: don't give up; setbacks will happen; move forward no matter how I feel.

Tanita Davis posted a poem the other day with a line that I will tattoo on my mind:

That if you make the effort, you cannot fail.

Say nay to naysayers

In her post yesterday on Writer Unboxed, Ann Aguirre exhorted her readers to think big, to believe in six impossible things before breakfast. An uplifting message.

What stayed with me the most, however, was this list:

(1) Graduated college
(2) Moved to a foreign country
(3) Got an agent
(4) Sold a debut SF novel written in first person, present tense, that one agent called unsellable
(5) Became a national bestselling author
(6) Sold nearly 20 books in three years

These were the things she was told she couldn't do, that she'd gone on to achieve.

That shows courage and confidence and determination.

Why did the list make such an impression on me? Because these qualities:

• courage
• confidence
• determination

don't come easily to me. I am much more incline to:

• fear rather than to brave the unknown;
• discount and second-guess my abilities and decisions;
• refrain from committing to anything I am not absolutely sure of.

I look back and remember one dream that I'd given up because I'd believed in naysayers. When I was fourteen and was completely captivated by the orchestra, my desire to become an orchestral conductor met with "girls can't be conductors" and "if you're not a highly-trained string player by this age, you'd never be a conductor." I was devastated and no longer dared to dream that dream. *

These people were not necessarily trying to be discouraging. They were probably just throwing out considerations. And most likely they didn't expect someone to falter so easily.

I've given up on a few other dreams such as this and still cannot think about them without that twinge of regret in my gut. Even though I am committed to living a life without regret, and objectively I know that my life is good, I do allow that twinge to surface as a reminder not to step on the well-worn, much smoother path of giving up, but to take out my machete and cleavers and chop my way through the brambles and thorn bushes of the path I need to travel on.

Now I write fiction. This pursuit is understood only by those others who are engaged in similar activities--artists, musicians, authors. To the pragmatic and uninterested, what I do is pure foolishness. But the post yesterday helped me realize that I've come a long way, baby; I've learn to say "nay" to the naysayers, especially the one from within myself.

So, I invite you to join me in standing tall, holding strong to your beliefs, and say a loud, NAY (don't you think its old-fashioned quality makes it even more effective?) to the naysayers who assault you from without and within.

*I chose these two conductors because the first one, Alondra de la Pana, formed her orchestra single-handedly and the second one, Shi-Yeon Sung, broke into the all-male ranks of conductors of the Boston Symphony, one of the most prestigious of orchestras. And oh, she started her music career as a pianist, as did so many other conductors. Read the story of de la Pana's Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas. From the story of Sung's debut with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, I find the following passage particularly inspiring:

...she admitted the difficulty of the situation, pointing out that 50 years ago there were almost no women playing in orchestras. "Nowadays, nobody says 'a woman musician' in an orchestra. And the situation [with conductors] is changing," she wrote, noting not only [Marin} Alsop but the Australian opera conductor Simone Young and JoAnn Falletta, music director of the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra.

"I really hope that soon I won't get this question [of being a woman conductor] any more," she added.

On genes and endurance and writing

When I wrote my post on the study showing that 20% of the population will not increase their endurance by training, I knew I would get some wonderful comments, and I did. I am lucky to have some very wise people check in on my blog.

It is so true, genes or no genes, talent or no talent, what matters is that we do: run, write, practice. Whatever tendencies our make-up predispose us to don't have the last say on what we choose to do. If our passion and our talents mesh: great. If we have the passion but no talent*: who is to say we can't pursue those passions and derive as much meaning and richness from them?

*Besides how do we know if a person has talent?

Lance Armstrong supposedly has a huge heart--I am talking about the physical muscle here, not the seat of emotions/ spirit--and an extraordinary capacity to use oxygen. He also loves cycling long distances. Perfect combo. Throw in determination and hard work and training and there you have it: a super star.

If it doesn't quite work out that way, if we have a regular size heart and our muscles don't process lactic acid easily and we still want to cycle: throw in the determination and hard work and still do it. Maybe the yellow jersey won't be ours, but the feelings of accomplishment, the pride in persevering, the enjoyment of the process: if these things could be quantified, they could very well match Lance's.

I am particularly interested in endurance because all my life I've felt trapped in a no-stamina body. I've allowed the disappointment and shortcoming to steer me away from anything that requires stamina. Oh, I was an active child, running on the playground, playing the game dujour of the week with my friends, but I didn't compete in anything that involved running, except for the one race where competitors had to do some math problems on a small chalkboard in the halfway point of the race (I know, some teacher was trying to be creative and help us nerds during Sports Day).

But now I have a new goal, I want to earn my black belt in TKD. So far my physical limitations haven't deterred my progress much, but at my next belt testing, I have to do all the forms I've learned so far, including the one I am working on right now, seven forms, with a total of I don't know how many steps. My biggest obstacle is not memorizing the forms but being able to do them all back to back without passing out.

In other words, my stamina is being called for, big time.

So I have been training, trying to include more running in my walk/run routines, practicing going through all the forms at half speed and half strength, hoping to increase in stages.

And not seeing as much progress as I'd like.

Very discouraging.

Then this article came out and I didn't know if I was more relieved (I am not a freak of nature!) or discouraged (I'll never go beyond what I am capable right now!)

Ice cream got involved, but so did some very stubborn practicing: "Not only am I not going to pass out after the seventh form, I am going to go through the whole series twice! So there!"

I don't have a success story to tell you (yet?) I still feel I can't possibly jog for more than a few minutes at a time, and one day very soon, I WILL pass out on the floor while sparring. But my sneakers are on, I am still doing what I can.

To quote some wise people:

Never underestimate the power of hard work.


maybe they won't be able to run 5 miles, but they'll definitely be stronger than before.


I'm certainly not ready to take a seat in the bleachers and give up yet.



Even if I learned I would never will be a marathon runner, I could still enjoy being outside. I say keep the sneakers and jog around the park.

Not quite what I expected

Say you're someone who's always preferred reading and writing and drawing and playing the piano to running cross country. Say part of the reason is that you always run out of breath within two minutes and you hate feeling like a wimp. Say now you're older and wiser and realize that while reading and writing and drawing and playing the piano are still so much more enjoyable than running cross country, physical stamina is a very good thing that is worth pursuing.

What would you do.?

Well, you may put on your sneakers and start a very gentle program to build your endurance from, oh maybe walking 30 minutes in a session to eventually running 30 minutes? Sounds very doable, right?

What if, after a month of it, you still feel as wimpy and winded as you were? What would you think?

Just give it time. The stamina will come. It's common sense, right? Everybody knows that if you start training, you'll eventually get there.

But then a newest study shows that exercise won't boost endurance levels for 1 in 5 people.

What would you do then?

Cry? Curse your genes? Eat ice cream? Rant?

But what do you do with those sneakers?

Writers know the meaning of toil. We do it every day. For most of us, we do it with no real, tangible reward in sight. We do it for a variety of reasons: we love it, we can't not do it, we know it's the good thing to do, we know it's the right thing to do.

Then we are reminded that talent and luck do play a role. What if we are one of those people who don't really have the talent (the right genes that allow training to build our stamina) or the luck. What is the point then?

Those of us who have been slogging for a while at writing will have our own answers to this question. And we've kept our sneakers on. I would love to hear some of yours.

(Incidentally, here is an article that tries to balance the hype.)

Thoughts, mostly obvious, occasionally profound, and sometimes disconcerting

As I promised in an earlier post, I will jot down some of the thoughts and questions that have been swirling around in my mind, and the conclusions i have chosen to arrive at. Many of them are so obvious that it embarrasses me to have to put them down, but knowing they are available to anyone who has any interest to read, keeps me a little bit more accountable than if they existed only in my mind.

Conclusion #1
Some things in life can be controlled, others cannot

"Well, duh!?"

I hear ya.

But the complication comes with not knowing which things are in which category. Eat healthy you say? All right then, let's buy us lots of fresh veggies and fruits. But then do I know if pesticides have been sprayed on those beautiful green leaves, and whether the brightly colored oranges have been picked when they were light green and kept so long that there is hardly any vitamin C left?

Exercise to lose weight, you say? Sure thing. Pull on the sneakers and strap on the willpower. But as you decrease food intake and increase energy output, your metabolic rate starts to do through a complicated series of events to compensate.

Write well and learn the publishing process and maximize your chances of getting published? You fill in the blanks.

So the only way to live based on this conclusion is: approach every task as if I have full control but think about outcome with the understanding that I actually have none.

And try to convince my emotions that it is just fine.

Mortar and Pestle, Sore Muscles, and Dimpled Hands are what I am grateful for

CKHB exhorts us to share our thankfulness by showing, not telling: a solid writerly advice. My post yesterday is a bit of a downer, but today's will hopefully be more uplifting.

Sharing the earthy, old-fashioned task of pounding aromatics in a stone mortar and pestle with my budding 9-year old cook, and enjoying the bursts of fragrance released from the ginger, scallions and garlic, mixed in with the air that is already perfumed with freshly ground star anise, clove, coriander and fennel.

[mortar and pestle from rosefirerising from Flikr Creative Commons]

My 7-year old's dimpled hands coaxing a surprisingly resonant Bach Minute from his tiny viola, the same dimpled hands he used to pat my hand gently to say good night.

Sore abdominal muscles reminding me that the torturous core-strengthening exercises in Tae Kwon Do class are not in vain.

Thermometer readings that no longer hover around 101 and the resumption of white blood cells production.

Sleep; restorative, healing sleep.

May you have many moments of thankfulness to choose from, every day.

Gratitude

sucking it up, rolling with the punches, making lemonade

disappointed, discouraged, dejected

unfairness, brokenness, falling short

grit teeth, pound fists, give up

pain, sorrow, hopelessness

Who hasn't?

Gratitude

soothes, warms, girds

gives perspective

grants hope

feeds perseverance

reveals grace, generosity, joys taken for granted

filling, filling till overflowing

[Man in Blue Green and Yellow by Michael Arnold

Gratitude by ~K~ at Flikr]

Day Two

The winner of the first contest held yesterday is: Rebecca!

She will receive one of my favorite middle grade novels, Emma Jean Lazarus Fell Out of A Tree by Lauren Tarshis. Rebecca, please send me a message on facebook or send me an email.

Enjoy.

The quote for today is:

"Maybe everyone can live beyond what they're capable of."
— Markus Zusak (I Am the Messenger)

The contest for today is:

What was your favorite book / author when you were in elementary school?

Again, if you wish to expand on your answers, please do. I am always interested in the "whys."

Since nobody tried to guess the movie quotes from yesterday, I'll include that for today as well. So, if you know the movies, please leave a comment.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by yesterday. It's so cool to "meet" other book lovers and read their blogs. *wave* Hi, blogospere friends!

(Incidentally, the Blogger spellcheck thinks "blogosphere" should be "bloodsucker.") There, there's the silly party chatter.

Good is not good enough

Talk to someone pursuing a big goal:getting accepted into an Ivy league school, landing a contract with a record label, being hired as first horn by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and you'll hear how crazy difficult and competitive it is.

Getting my novels published feels as crazy difficult. I realize there are lots that are outside my control: the state of publishing industry, trends, the economy, so I concentrate on what writers are suppose to do, write: revise my first novel, draft scenes of my second, and jot down thoughts about my third. I am also doing what writers who want to be published do: send off queries and submissions. (Can we say roller-coaster emotional rides?)

A sensible sentence caught my attention this morning. It is from Tami Brown at the Through The Tollbooth blog. She says:

But your writing ... must be as good, and in most cases, better than writing you see in published books. Why? The authors of books in print already have relationships. You are new. It takes something extra to break through.

Not a thought that most people who consider encouraging, but strangely, it's encouraging me to keep plowing and polishing so my work will be better, hopefully better than good.

(It's pretty obvious that I was procrastinating. I should be writing, not reading blogs? But hey, every once in a while, those tactics do bring us back to what we're supposed to be doing.)

Give me embarrassment any time!

Recently someone told me I was brave.

That took me completely by surprise. I've long resigned to the fact that I'm chicken about many things. When I read of courageous acts in books, I'm always filled with admiration and longing. I tell myself I need to overcome at least some of my fears, and have, in fact, taken a few baby-steps toward this goal.

But I know I am far from being brave. Which is why that statement gave me pause. After mulling over it, I realized that the reason I did that supposedly-brave thing is that I prefer embarrassment over regret.

I've sabotaged my own successes many times out of fear. Those events have gnawed at me over the years, giving me pangs of regret. I know how to deal with them more effectively now, but the intensity of these pangs haven't subsided.

In contrast to that, there have been times when I've subdued my fear enough to do something brave. Some of those times have resulted in embarrassing moments, a couple of them spectacularly so, like when I had a full-on brain freeze on my very first piano competition and couldn't continue beyond the first page of my Chopin Ballade and so I just stood up to bow--bow!!!--as the audience clapped politely to signal their relief I was about to leave the stage.

But the effects of the embarrassment, unlike those of regret, die off. Apparently, Time does heal, the pain of embarrassment at least.

This is a timely reminder, as I am sending off another round of submissions. I've received a few encouraging responses, but the rejections are coming in as well. But I know now that I can live better with having tried without succeeding, than not trying at all.

I wish you courage.

Poetry Friday

Welcome to the first Poetry Friday of National Poetry Month.

I have chosen a poem by Jack Gilbert for all my writing friends who work diligently at their craft everyday, steadily, and sometimes--who am I kidding--more often than not, are in a state of discouragement and disappointment, overwhelmed by the daunting task.

Take heart, fellow toilers! Heed Jack's words, that

courage is not the abnormal
Not the marvelous act

and that

It is the normal excellence, of long accomplishment.

Enjoy his poem, The Abnormal is Not Courage

(Instead of a poetry archive site, I've linked to a blog. This particular post includes two other poems by Gilbert and a couple of interesting first-hand stories by the blogger.)

Poetry Friday Roundup this week is at ayuddha.net

Go and be confident!

I was going to write some book reviews this week, but I've received some really good critiques of my book recently and need to revise before my enthusiasm wanes. Also, the week on hiatus seems to have recharged me and I am on a bit of a roll in my revision and definitely do not want to lose the momentum.

So instead of changing focus to write my book review, I'll leave you with the fortune I got a couple of weeks ago:

You are capable, competent, creative and careful.

Maybe this veers too closely toward Deep Thoughts territory but I see no harm in some self-affirmation.

Of course, you can always have a discussion amongst yourselves on the topic of:

Do self-affirmations actually work or are we just deluding ourselves?

or

Are alliterations annoying or affirming?

Discuss.

Poetry Friday

For Poetry Friday today, I was going to link to a short poem by Harold Shapiro over at the Writers Almanac. But when I read today's selection, I decided it has to be the one for today. Maybe it's because I've experienced the event described here many times or because my fellow writer, Cheryl, wrote about her experience in this arena recently.

The Meaning of Life
by Nancy Fitzgerald

Here is an excerpt:

You must be quick, decisive,
controlled, and if you miss
...
you must forgive
her quickly and give yourself
to scrubbing up the mess.

Excellent way to meet life head on!

The Miss Rumphius Effect is hosting the Roundup this week.

Poetry Friday on Pep Talk Week: Optimism

Tenacity, optimism, persistence, hope, resilience: aren't these the best words for when you feel drained of anything that can propel you on the path that you thought you wanted to take?

Optimism
by Jane Hirshfield

More and more I have come to admire resilience.
Not the simple resistance of a pillow, whose foam returns over and
over to the same shape, but the sinuous tenacity of a tree:

Here is the rest of the poem.

Poetry Friday Roundup is at Mommy's Favorite Children's Books this week.

Pep Talk Week: Resilience

Every once in a while, I'd get drawn to the promises of a self-help book and imagine my life improved after following its recommendations. More often than not, I can't even finish reading it. The Resilience Factor by Karen Reivich and Andrew Shatte, however, is an exception. This is one that I've read and come back to several times.

When we face seemingly unending and insurmountable obstacles--oh, I don't know, such as trying to get published when the likelihood of that happening is shrinking daily--there is a temptation to give in to hopelessness. Resilience is the trait that prevents that.

Excerpt:

[Resilient people] seem to soar in spite of the hardship and trauma they face. In fact, the most resilient people seek out new and challenging experiences because they've learned that it's only through struggle, through pushing themselves to their limits, that they will expand their horizons.

It's a good thing we don't have to seek out challenges.

...they don't wither when confronted with risky or dangerous situations...have found a system to galvanizing themselves and tackling problems thoughtfully, thoroughly, and energetically.

The authors are cognitive psychologists, so they advocate changing our lives by changing our thinking. They offer resilience tests, examples of thinking traps, and of course, ways to increase our RQ, (you've got it: resilience quotient!)

A couple of ideas that I find most relevant to me as a writer have to do with numbers 5 and 6 of the seven essential skills:

• Putting it in perspective
  
• calming and focusing

Yes, the book is written in the format of standard self-help books, with punchy titles and handy lists. But if you can get pass these distractions, I think the ideas may offer us dreamers and wordmules some tools for banishing negative thoughts that keep us from doing what we do.

Pep Talk Week: No Regrets

The subject today: Regret

Regrets come in two flavors:

• "I wish I had told the guy I admired him."
  
• "I came within 0.2 points of getting my summa cum laude."
  

The first has to do with a decision, made differently than what we think we should have. The second has to do with something outside our control. We could have studied a bit harder maybe, but in the end, the 0.2 points are not our say.

A few years ago, I realized I've prevented myself from a lot of good things because I didn't have enough guts to pursue them. All those opportunities forgone!

Faulty thinking: if I didn't go for it, at least nobody could say I've failed.

It's sad enough that appearing good in front of people had so much power, but sadder still that it wasn't even the whole story. The real reason was that I didn't want to find out for myself if I really had what it took, and didn't know if I could handle it if I had to admit I didn't have what it took. So I simply took myself out of running. All because I didn't want to face a possible truth about myself.

I decided then that I wanted to live a life of no regrets. It hasn't been easy, nor has it been totally successful, but I can say I'm pursuing more scary things now than before.

In my recent funk as a writer, I wondered if it was all worth it. I toyed with the idea that I should just stop pursuing the dream. I am not going to get published anyway, why spend all that energy and time on a dead end? This blog offers me an outlet for my writing, and maybe that should be enough.

Old habits, especially thought habits, really do die hard.

New mantra: It is always better to try and fail than not to try at all.

If I were to have any regrets, let them be of the second variety. I will not allow myself to fall back into forgoing dreams out of fear.

So write already!

This last post focuses on those suggestions from Barbara Samuel that have to do with the actual writing. She says:

A novel in progress is as delicate as an embryo, and it is your job to protect it from any environment that might harm it. Protect it from too much judgment or feedback, from other people, but also from yourself.

and

Your job is not to judge... only to serve each one as it arrives,

Protect it as I would an embryo.

Serve it as a guest.

When I view my work this way, courtesy and respect enter the picture, and I am no longer at liberty to be harsh and demeaning. I am not sure why, when I considered my writing just as an extension of me, it was okay to be nasty. But I am going to be mindful of my work being not just a part of me, but its own entity as well. Just like my children, whom I recognize and respect as beings separate from me.

To those of you who have indulged my process of de-funking, thank you. Your encouragement is a lifeline. I'd like to report that I started writing again this morning. I am back on the wagon and practicing my new attitude.

I wish you: beautiful relationships with all your words.