*THIS BLOG POST CONTAINS SWEARS. – Nan, look away now.*
I’ve hit a cross-roads in my life where the time has come for me to stop fucking about, pick up my shit, put on my big girl pants and halt being a wuss about my writing.
Yes, yes, I know, I said this last year (and the year before and the year before that ad infinitum) and I was then washed-out by the wave of saying Yes to Stupid Shit.
Turns out I didn’t say Yes to the Correct Stupid Shit.
That’s the good thing about life though. You’re not stuck in one place. It’s not rigid. It’s forever changing, moving, opening doors, giving you opportunities. You can choose to move on, or stay put. You can choose to give something a damn good bash, and know that even if it fails miserably, you gave it a go and you had a jolly good laugh along the way.
I need some of that shit in my life right now.
So, the other night, my partner and I were discussing life in terms of what we would actually like to do… real, tangible things that we could do in the evenings while we still hold down day jobs. Things that we would enjoy even if it doesn’t change our lives.
Writing is one of the things I’ve always wanted to do (CLICHE ALERT). I’m a creative, arty-farty, sensitive soul who wishes she could be a hard-ass, thick-skinned, frosty bitch. And I try. I really do try. Faking it til you make it will only get you so far though and then the sensitive, paranoid softy comes blubbing out all over your work shirt. I need to have a way to displace these feelings, force them into a tube of someone else’s shitty life (a character) and restore the balance to my own.
I think I feel worse when I’m not writing, so that is going to be my “thing”. I’m going to try harder, deliver more, probably swear a lot more, and just write some STUFF.
I skipped camp nano last year because it was all too much, but this year, I’m going to win that mofo like a … um… mofo. I’m going to lay down my 50,000 words and they are going to be shitty like first drafts should be. They are also going to contain the gem of a story that should get more love and attention and I kinda think I should make this year about those gems. Grabbing them and giving them a good rub down or at least shaking the moss off them to find out if they really are turds (and whether I can cover them in glitter and make them do an admirable, if smelly, job of being passable.) This should be the Year of the Edit. The Year of Making Something Shine. The Year of Making ME Shine.
So, here’s to something new.