I’ve recent embarked on a project in addition to my WiP Novel. I dare not say anymore about it because of a superstition I acquired long ago when I was a young teenage. If you want something to happen–if it’s close and dear to your heart–Do Not Talk About It! Don’t even mention it to loved ones who would just going to support you in the matter. If you do, the chances of your dreams falling into ruin are much more likely. You can talk about it all you want only after you’ve obtained whatever it is you’re pining for.
This new venture started late last week and I was a little shocked at how it grabbed me, not letting go for anything. it commenced with an email I sent to my writing buddy, in which I was questioning my writing skills. In the second email she sent back to me, she throw an idea at me that felt as if it had knocked me off my feet. It lead to eight other emails back and forth, elaborating on the possibilities.
By the time Saturday evening arrived, plans, strategies, and tasks were swirling and churning in my mind. All day Sunday–Easter, no less–I was working on arrangements to get this idea in full swing without letting go of the other tasks on my daily agenda. (Easter was uneventful this year due to minor illness.)
My WiP Novel is an endeavor of earnestness to me. I probably shouldn’t have broadcast it through my blog. I just may have jinxed the project. Still, I won’t let go of it. I’m prodded through my own dreams to complete it. I give myself at least four hours each day to plow through as many sentences as I possibly can. As much as I love this new idea, I will not, under any circumstances, let my WiP suffer.
I’ve read about writers who let their surrounding and themselves get dirty, grimy, and smelly. I could never be one of those writers. There are times when I long to have that kind of focus, but it’ll never happen with me. If I don’t clean up the kitchen after meals, I find myself waking up in the middle of the night to do that task. With three indoor cats, the fur flies 24/7. Fur on anything other than the animal makes me think of filth. I must vacuum and dust. I feel raunchy if my body, teeth, and hair aren’t clean. Therefore, personal hygiene is a must. This new project is one I, most assuredly, will get done, but not at the expense of a dirty house or a disgusting appearance.
I’ve had this particular blog since 2013. It’s gone through some major changes in topics and numerous design revisions. I’ve become quite attached to it and the value it has bestowed on me. It’s become my avenue into the world that would otherwise be meager and depressing.
In order to feel confident with this new intention, I feel I must be able to keep what I have going, which means figuring out how and where to add this in my daily life. By Sunday night, I thought I had it all pretty much decided. I was tired and drained.
Monday morning, I woke up early with an annoying sore throat. It didn’t deter me though. I was all revved up to attempt my routine for the day. I did my normal–check the email inboxes (three of them). There was little to scan, let alone read. This was my time to get busy on this new venture. I started collecting the data I’d need to rework. When the notice I set up on my PC to remind me it was time to work on the novel popped up, I closed the folder and opened the one showing my yWriter files.
I worked two hours before getting to the laundry that needed folding. After that, I realized I had a little time to do some more gathering of information before my next WiP writing session. When dinner time rolled in, I felt like I had done a fair day’s work. The throat was still irritating and I had developed a raspy cough. Still, I was rather pleased with myself.
My whole demeanor changed at approximately eight that evening. I realized I had abandoned all thought of any kind of blog entry for the following morning. Come on now, what kind of doofus am I? One who can’t remember something she’s been doing for three years at the same site. The shame hit me with force that I couldn’t deny.
Yes, I’m quite aware that I’m not a perfect human being and I should give myself some slack. After all, my blog isn’t one to accompany a business of any sort so there isn’t any income to be lost. Nor are there any clients that are going to go elsewhere for services if I don’t maintain my blog perfectly. My blog is purely personal where I devolve glimpses of my personality and my life. No one will die if I don’t have that Tuesday post up for the few who follow my trifling adventures.
Still, because of personal principles, I have this self-concocted guilt about the missing post of this last Tuesday. I didn’t achieve something I knew, for certain, I could do; if for no other reason, I’ve don’t it numerous times before. I can’t imagine being the only one who feels this way after a blunder. I am not an image of Paul Simon’s song, I am a Rock, I am an Island, after all.
I can’t wipe the failure away, but I have a proven method to get rid of the guilt. I own up to the fault, misdeed, or, in this case, the omission and carry on from that moment. I can’t say it worked every time, but it works often enough that it’s the first thing I try to get my mind on an even keel.
So, sorry I didn’t get an entry in for this last Tuesday. I have a couple of good excuses, but, as with most failings, no good reasons.
Do you have a way to put your bungles behind you?
I write because I’m afraid to say some things out loud. ~Gordon Atkinson, reallivepreacher.com