To stare at the screen ... what does it really mean?

I have just started writing my fifth novel. And for the first time ever, I have my story fully plotted from beginning to end. Usually I plot to about 2/3 of the way through, so that there is still an element of surprise when I write, but this time the ending was screaming at me. So all I have to do, is sit down and write it. I'm 5k in. Feeling proud.

Then the staring happened.

The staring, to me, means what? I'm not inspired? No. I don't know what to write next? No. Of course I do, I have it all plotted out. On cards. In front of me. That I don't know my characters well enough? Hmm ... I probably don't. But they always become more rounded as I write, and that's part of the joy. Watching them develop. And it has never stopped me from writing before.

So what, exactly, is it that makes me stare and stare, and procrastinate and procrastinate, when all I have to do is get the words on the page? I was thinking about it last night, and I came to the conclusion that it's fear.

Fear of:
1. It being crap.
2. It being all I think about day in and day out that I neglect my responsibilities. Let's face it, that is going to happen regardless, and is something I should accept.
3. It being bullshit.
4. Take more than a year to finish the first draft because of the fear and the procrastination.
5. It being stupid.
6. Doing this all for nothing. Why am I a writer? Why do I torture myself like this? Because I love it. Why? Because I love it. Why? Because I love it! Why? Oh, shut up!
7. It being crap, bullshit, and stupid.

So, that is why I stare at my screen. Because I am afraid of being who I am, essentially.

What causes you to stare at your screen?

________________

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Past or Present: What's Your Preference?

Source

This weekend while I was writing my next Writing in a Nutshell book, I posted the following on Facebook and Twitter:

"I hate past tense. That is all."

Of course, this started a pretty interesting discussion, which I'd like to continue here. But first take a look at what others had to say ...

Trisha Farnan: I am well out of the habit of writing in past tense, and yet my current CP seems to only like past tense. so it's interesting 

Hart Johnson: Aren't we funny in our tenses. I really am not a fan of present. In fact I WON'T write in it, but really have to have a GREAT story to enjoy even reading it. 

Author Jessica Bell: yeah, present tense is my favourite.  When I write in past tense it feels like I'm rewriting something that has already been written. It loses its mystery ... 

Stina Lindenblatt: I'm so used to writing in present tense, I'm not sure if I can write in past tense anymore. 

Sarah Ahiers: whereas I hate writing in present tense. gross 

Laurel Garver: I feel like I'm in a flashback when I write in past tense. I guess it's a matter of what you're used to. 

Helena Halme: Me too, hate getting tangled up in all those pluperfects. Sometimes, though, it's unavailable. 

Daniel Wynne: I love writing in first person present tense. Some people might see it as a bit overbearing, but I think it works for fast-paced and humorous stories (which most of mine are). 

Roslyn Ross: I like past tense for its flexibility and deeper reflection. There is a limit to the Now for all sorts of reasons. Past and Future enable imagination to be completely at work in the literal and the metaphorical. 

Dennis Higgins: As a writer of time-travel, tense is very important to me...or was...or will be. 

Author Jessica Bell: Roslyn, I don't see how writing in the present tense means you can't deeply reflect on the past. There's nothing stopping a character reflecting on what they have done in the past just because the book is written in present tense. 

Example from String Bridge: "Alex’s watered-down Greek accent is stifled by the filthy rugs we have yet to remove from the corridor for the approaching summer. His voice is smooth, deep, and gentle. Unlike mine, which will forever be polluted with a brutal Australian twang. Alex’s voice was the first thing I was drawn to when we met five years ago at my debut solo performance in this city. It was just me, my voice and my guitar, battling the fear of laying my soul out for scrutiny, below the hot stage lights and in front of the quiet, unresponsive Greek crowd." 

If anything, I think it's more natural this way. Then all the past simple doesn't have to turn into past perfect. If you write a book in the past tense, then when you reflect on the past within that story all the tenses go wild and it drives me bonkers. But that's just me 

Roslyn Ross: I think the operative word Jessica was deeply, inferring a capacity for greater reflection than in the present, which is, by its nature, busy in the now. But I don't see it as important. Everyone writes differently and there is no wrong or right way. Compare Hemingway to Proust or Joyce - all very different from the average - and apart from Hemingway, would not be accepted by publisher or agent in this day and age, but all excellent writers. 

Author Jessica Bell: I know what you mean, Roslyn. And I still think you can reach as "deeply" in present as you can in past. 

Debbie Young: I write in both - sometimes present feels right for some stories/narrators, sometimes only past will do. Anyone ever written anything entirely in the future tense? Hadn't thought of doing that before! Might be interesting... Btw, sometimes I find reading a book that is written in the present is more tiring, maybe because I get more emotionally involved? 

Author Jessica Bell: that could be so, Debbie! 

Michael L Swift: I write in "Michael" tense. Just bring me another damn cup of coffee, dammit.

But my most favourite comment, however, came from Heather Truett on Twitter:

I like writing what IS instead of what WAS ... [past tense] loses its immediacy. I like my reader to be with me, not in my memory.

What's your preference? Past or Present? Why? Also, has the tense used in a book ever effected your enjoyment of the read? Why?

______________________

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The Artist Unleashed: FINDING A WRITING NICHE IN NATURE, by Cinthia Ritchie

The Artist Unleashed posts have moved to a new domain. Please click HERE to read the rest of this post and for the opportunity to comment. Just search for the title of the post in the search bar on the new site.

Ever just wanna throw everything away and live like a bum?

... well, a slightly more elaborate bum.

I do.

I want a life outside of the house ... I work from home, I write from home, I market and promote my books and music from home, I play guitar and sing ... at home (yeah like once every six months). I eat, I shit, I cook, I (don't) clean ... at home. I even go outside, at home. Yeah, that doesn't make sense to you, but it does to me.

There's got to be a way I can do everything I need to do away from home. My sanctuary is becoming a prison!

If only I had more money (yes, don't we all wish that.)

To buy a MOBILE HOME.

Like this:

Source

I wish I could just throw everything I own away. (Well, donate it to somebody.) Buy a laptop with a decent sized screen so I can do my work from anywhere, and live out of a couple of suitcases. But there are these things called spouses and dogs. (Well, I only have one of each.)

I NEED TO GET OUT OF MY HOME. Ugh.

Do you ever feel trapped in your own home?

BREAKING ALL THE RULES. MAKING IT REAL.

I'm writing a novella at the moment called THE BOOK, set in the late 70s, early 80s. The book is a journal. And the whole story revolves around the relationship each of its characters have with 'the book'.

Source

The mother, Penny, who always writes in it because she wants her daughter, Bonnie, to have it when she's older. The father, John, who wants to continue writing in it, but because he no longer lives with them, it makes things difficult. And Bonnie, who thinks the book is full of sadness because it always makes her mum cry, and the step dad, Ted, turn violent from jealousy. Bonnie wants to get rid of the book to protect her mum from its demons. But the book will end up bringing Bonnie's parents back together. That's the plan anyway. Who knows where it will take me as I write.

But there's a catch.

Penny and John's points of view are written in the form of their entries in the book only. And because they're separated, they've promised not to read each other's entries. The point of view of Bonnie is 1st person, present tense. So I'm writing like a 5-year-old girl would speak.

You know what is really interesting about this? The setup means I'm defying all the rules of the craft.

The journal entries are all just 'telling'. Bonnie's POV is young, so it's full of awkward grammar, repetition, plenty of redundancies, and words you couldn't even find in a mad hatter's dictionary. But it's how she speaks. And it's real.

And before you tell me a book like this isn't going to work, I'm going to tell you it is. It will be a project I will self-publish, so I don't need any agent/editor approval. And it will rip your little hearts out, folks. That's a promise.

Sometimes, we have to sacrifice the rules to make something real. This is one such case, and I'm damned excited.

Have you ever written anything that was 'technically wrong' on so many levels, but just knew it was right?

Show & Tell in a Nutshell: Demonstrated Transitions from Telling to Showing

On November 12, my pocket guide, Show & Tell in a Nutshell: Demonstrated Transitions from Telling to Showing, will be released, and I'm super excited about this little book!

When I first started writing, I totally didn't understand the concept of "show, not tell". In theory I could, but when I tried to put it into practice it would just end up being a more fancy version of telling. I always wished there were easy-to-access, and reliable examples out there to refer to. And so this book was born! &

Here's the blurb:

Have you been told that you have a little too much telling in your novel? Want to remedy it? Then this is the book for you!

In Show & Tell in a Nutshell: Demonstrated Transitions from Telling to Showing you will find sixteen real scenes depicting a variety of situations, emotions, and characteristics which clearly demonstrate how to turn telling into showing. Dispersed throughout, and at the back of the book, are blank pages to take notes as you read. A couple of short writing prompts are also provided.

Not only is this pocket guide an excellent learning tool for aspiring writers, but it is a light, convenient, and easy solution to honing your craft no matter how broad your writing experience. Keep it in the side pocket of your school bag, throw it in your purse, or even carry it around in the pocket of your jeans or jacket, to enhance your skills, keep notes, and jot down story ideas, anywhere, anytime.

Of course, a Kindle version will be available at the same time with a slightly different introduction and blurb, as it won't need any note-taking space.

And so, in light of this, I'm going to write up a short advertorial blog post, and transfer it to HTML, for those who are interested in helping me advertise between November 26 and December 10. Are you interested in helping me out? If so, just say yo in the comments, with the date you want, and I'll be in touch via email!

When you were just beginning to write, how did you wrap your mind around the show, not tell rule? Did you crave real examples like me? Do you think your beginner self would have benefited from such a book? Why?

The Artist Unleashed: THE TWO-FACED LIFE OF A WRITING EDITOR, by Laurel Garver

The Artist Unleashed posts have moved to a new domain. Please click HERE to read the rest of this post and for the opportunity to comment. Just search for the title of the post in the search bar on the new site.

Innocence Sentenced With Guilt

I had last Friday off so decided to give myself a three-day-do-absolutely-nothing-weekend.

But the problem with long weekends and being used to working so hard all the time, is that I can't seem to overcome the feeling that I'm doing something wrong when I let myself sit around doing nothing.

It feels criminal.

The offence of innocently taking time off is sentenced with guilt.

By the time I got over this feeling, it was Sunday afternoon. What a waste. I spent the whole long weekend feeling like I should be getting stuff done and didn't relax AT ALL.

The biggest thing stopping me from relaxing was that I felt I should be utilizing this time to write. I did write, a bit, but the guilt of not feeling like writing much meant I wasted a lot of time on social media pretending to write. GAH! Why couldn't I just lap up and enjoy the three blissful days of freedom?

Mind you, I did end up watching the entire first season of REVENGE. And now I'm totally hooked. Great. Another TV show to take away from my reading time. Sigh.

Are you generally an always-have-to-do-something kind of person? How do you feel when given rare time to relax?

Oh music, where did you go?

Me, 2008, supporting Holly
Golightly at Rodeo Club in
Athens, Greece.

All this business of writing is distracting. I've forgotten that there are other things I love to do too. One of the biggest things is MUSIC. Not only have I forgotten that I can actually write it (I haven't picked up my guitar since writing the String Bridge soundtrack), but I've forgotten it even exists. I haven't turned on the stereo in so many months I've lost count ...

-Jessica, that's disgusting.
-Yes, yes it is. I'm so ashamed.

Yeah, look, don't tell me it's natural, that there are only so many things that we can fit into this short time-slot of a day, because there's no excuse for forgetting that something enjoyable and relaxing and vital to my well-being exists. No excuse. At all.

-You have seemed a little absent lately. Maybe you're having withdrawals ...
-*sigh*

In all fairness, it doesn't help that all my CDs are stored away in a massive case, coverless, hiding in a drawer, still from ten years ago when I moved from Australia to Greece. Maybe it's time to buy a big CD rack, stick them into jewel cases at least, and label them with stickers or something, to remind myself that they are there.

-You're an idiot. Just open up the flippin' case once in a while!
-(silent stare)

Oh, and you know what's funny? My partner has THOUSANDS of albums. And I see them in front of me every day on the bookshelves. But it doesn't register that there is music in them. All I see now is a blur of colour embedded in our walls as if they are somehow a part of the walls themselves.

-Are you kidding? I saw something catch your eye there the other day.
-Yeah. Dust.

It also doesn't help that every time I do listen to music I end up in tears. Even if it's heavy metal. Must trigger some weird hidden psychological hurt, regret, melancholy, who knows ... *sigh*

I need to fix this. I need to make some sort of pact with my partner: one album every two days (?) until we've listened to every single one in our house ...

You think it'll happen? I guess if you see my crying, you'll know ...

What have you forgotten about since becoming a writer?

I get "writer's block" when I plot.

I've just discovered this about myself recently. Yes, I know. Isn't it strange?

Three weeks ago I started my third novel. It's technically my fifth, but I'm not counting the first one I digitally burned, or the other one I've started, but put on the sidelines for a while because it was too smart for me.

For the first time in my life, I don't have time to binge-write (allocating large slots of time to write my heart out until I can write no more), so I've been forcing myself to get out at least 500 words, every morning, five days a week. Due to this small goal, I've actually averaged 900 a day, which is pretty damn good considering I have a full time job, Vine Leaves Literary Journal, and a whole bunch of other literary favours I do for people. Oh yeah, and there's my life away from books and music, I always forget that one ...

Anyway, I started this novel on a whim because I really really craved some finger aerobics (they've been losing a lot of muscle tone lately), and I started it without plotting a single thing. All it started with was an idea of two characters.

Once I started writing, it turned into four solid characters, and I also discovered their motives and a basic story line without figuring out exactly what's going to happen any further than two chapters from where I currently write. And you know what I've discovered? This lack of plot keeps me really excited about my story. I want to know what happens next, which makes me want to sit down and write, and that, in turn, motivates me to get up early and write those minimum 500 words before work.

This is great! You know why? Because I haven't written anything on any novel for around 9 months. The novel that is sitting on the sidelines, is FULLY plotted. And once I'd figured out how it was going to progress, my enthusiasm for it died. Completely and utterly deflated like a defective pavlova.

My second novel, Bitter Like Orange Peel, was completely plotted too. And the first draft was torture. TORTURE. It took me more than a year to write those 73,000 words.

I really can't believe I've been doing it wrong all these years and wondering what the heck was wrong with me. Why did it take me so long to finish a novel? Because I was plotting and it destroyed my spark. I guess plotting isn't for me after all.

How about you? Has your writing rhythm changed as you've become more and more experienced, or have you found your comfort zone and are sticking with it?

I'm not a real writer because ...

• I do not hear voices. (not even when I'm being spoken to, I'm usually busy.)

• I don't get ideas when I'm about to fall asleep. (nor do I have a notebook on my bedside table)

• I do not 'zone out' when people are talking to me while I'm writing. (I just ignore them.)

• I always leave the house without a notepad and pen. (oops)

• I do not purposely eavesdrop in public. (I accidentally do it.)

• There aren't any 'plot bunnies' in my head. (that just makes me feel dusty)

• I do not write plot ideas on my hands and arms. (that's very bad for your health, you know, the ink goes into your blood stream, maybe that's why you're hearing voices.)

• I am not a loner. (okay, I am.)

• My first friend was not imaginary. (though I did like to imagine I had an imaginary friend. Problem was, it just seemed so unrealistic ...)

• I do not hold conversations between people that don't exist. (see previous point)

• I am not an alcoholic. (In fact, I barely drink at all. When I say I'm drinking wine, I'm actually looking at the bottle in the fridge and wishing I were drinking it. I don't do well with alcohol.)

• I do not mentally edit people's dialogue when they talk to me. (I just blatantly correct them.)

• I do not have a favourite line from every movie I've ever seen, nor can I remember quotes from classics off the top of my head! (I think I gave my memory to my imaginary imaginary friend.)

• I think writer's block is bollocks. It's called 'clearly needing a break'. (true)

There you have it. My confession. I'm not a writer. I am just a woman who writes (bollocks). 

Any of these things true for you? Come on ... time to dish. Got anything else to add?

PS: If you missed my post last Friday, String Bridge has been picked up by an Australian publisher, eMergent Publishing, and will be out in paperback again this Christmas. I would really love it if you could all 'like' this publisher's FB page. They stand for so much goodness in this industry, pushing for emerging writers to have their voices heard, read, appreciated. All it takes is one click, and perhaps another one if you're inclined to share! You may know a couple of bloggers who have been published in their anthologies: Theresa Milstein and Len Lambert.

In which I let it all hang out ...

Okay okay ... I'm letting loose. Just this once. I promise I'll be back to my professional self tomorrow. But today I drop some bombs and let it all hang out (you think I can add another cliché to this? Of course!) ... Today, I'm going to spill the beans without a care in the world. (ooh, look at that, two clichés!)

Well, the beans don't have much sauce, but they're beans nonetheless ...

I AM SO TIRED.

I work and work and work and work. And Vine Leaves and Vine Leaves and Vine Leaves and Vine Leaves. And I revise 2nd novel, revise 2nd novel, revise 2nd novel, revise 2nd novel (which I finally have a publisher for, but I'm not supposed to tell yet, WHOOPS!), and I Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop organize, Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop organize, Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop organize, Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop organize, yep there's lots to do, hampers, dinners, mini-van bookings, drivers, workshop schedules, following up payments, budgets, organizing tax dilemmas! CRIKEY! And ... oh there's that thing called cleaning (never do it) and laundry (rarely do it) and eating and cooking, wait, I need to cook before I eat, I should keep that in mind for next time. The dog! OMG, the dog, I've ignored her for days ... WEEKS. And there's those bodily functions I tend to forget exist, and friends I try to catch up with now and again in a hurried dinner near the Acropolis and go home feeling sick because I ate TOO MUCH AND TOO FAST and pass out watching who knows what on boring Greek TV, and what about my PARTNER, whom I adore, who I seem to perpetually ignore because I'm working and working and working and working ... when do I spend time with him?

*inward heave*

So what's the poster got to do with this? Nothing. I just thought it was funny.

Yup. Can I go to bed yet?

I can't wait till August. Can you?

Think about it ...

"Language does not always have to wear a tie and lace-up shoes." ~Stephen King, On Writing

I'm hungry ...

Sorry ... I couldn't resist :o)

Lot's of things on my plate this month, but it's not food:

Vine Leaves Literary Journal needs to be ready by beginning of July and we've had almost 250 submissions, this time around. That's lots of work for two people. You never know, we might need to recruit editors soon! Some stuffed vine leaves (dolmades) would be nice too ... hmmm ...

I'm participating in BuNoWriMo which is Hart Johnson's brainchild for those who find November inconvenient to do NaNoWriMo. I'm also being a rebel and using it to get a move on with MUTED instead of starting a new project. So far I'm failing miserably at 300 hundred words. But I hope to catch up! Please somebody bless my fingers with the speed to keep up with my brain ...

My Fabric blog tour is still going on quietly in the background. Didn't want to make a big deal about it, but it's still nice to get some exposure. And poetry needs it! If you feel at all inclined, please do me a favour and tweet, FB, it or just tell your friends! Thank you to Beccy, Glynis and Karen for helping me promote from last Friday to today.

Dawn and I have teamed up to write an awesome children's series (top secret!), and I've got a huge hankering to get a move on with it because it's freaking brilliant if I say so myself. Dawn also has a ton of other projects on the go, one of which I am designing a mock cover for, because I love to design them, and I love Dawn, so double win! :)

Oh yeah, and there's that day job that takes up the majority of my time. I've also got my father and his wife visiting from Australia in a couple of weeks, so will take some time off for that too.

Ack ... there's more ... I'm sure of it ... oh, yeah, getting excited about the retreat with Chuck Sambuchino this August! And also getting excited about some good news that I can't talk about yet. Hehehehe ... sorry folks!

Now ... I need some breakfast. *snaps fingers* Oi! Bring me a bowl of Special K, yeah, cereal, with sliced banana and strawberries in it, and I want the milk really cold, like on the verge of being frozen but not, ... okay ... a cup of coffee will do ...

Have a great week, all!

When disappointment strikes and hits a nerve ...

Source

I really don't mind the fact that I got a rejection from a publisher on Bitter Like Orange Peel, and found out that I didn't make the quarter finalists of ABNA, all in one day. I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm pretty numb to rejections nowadays because I've finally reached that point in my career where I trust my instincts and fully believe in myself (well ... most of the time).

I'm different. Some people get me. Others don't. No problemo.

These things don't disappoint me. What disappoints me is feedback that makes me question whether 'being true to myself' and 'writing honestly' is really the way to go. I'd finally come to the conclusion that it didn't matter if I got an agent or published by the big six. In reality, it still doesn't matter. I just want my books read and to have the opportunity to get my work better exposure ... so far things are going pretty well, it's early days ... but ... when I read feedback on my writing that says it would have a limited audience because it's too realistic, and contains not very attractive visuals, then I start to doubt the reason I write like this. Is there a point in being true to my instincts if in the end it's not going to help me progress? Can I accept having a niche audience for the rest of my life?

I get that people read to escape and don't want other people's shit thrown in their faces. And you're not going to be able to escape reading my books. You're going to be made to feel stuff. Lots of stuff. And some of it is ugly. Such is life. And I also get that my work isn't commercial. I do get that. I have accepted these things. So why have these comments stung so much? My stomach is in knots!

I don't know. I guess my expectations are too high. I'm never going to single-handedly change the trends in commercial fiction. But I tell you one thing ... there's no way I'm going to stop writing fiction that bites.

Do you read literary fiction? Is there anything you've read that's disgusted you? How did you react to it? Did it make you hate the book? Why?


ANNOUNCEMENT: The Homeric Writers' Retreat & Workshop has been discounted. It is now 1,550 Euro with accommodation and 950 Euro without. Check out the site for more details!

This is how it all began ...

Music ... bam bam, twang twang, grunt, yell, squeal, vibrato, ahh, pluck, strum, record, click, cassette, disc, head bang  ... yeah man, this is what you call art. I'm gonna be a rock star.


Lyrics ... stupid, these mean nothing, sounds ridiculous, gibberish, I'm a dickhead ... hmmm not bad, yeah this is f#@%ing cool, man  ... I think I have a talent for this. Wow, where did I pluck that awesome line from?

FOUR YEARS PASS ...

Poetry ... hey, this is just like writing a song, hey, maybe there's a way to make melody with words ... ooohhh, yeahhhh, I liiiiiike thissssss ... I want to do this every day ...

Prose ... Um, is this a short story? Um ... I don't know. There's no ending is there? It's all just kinda ... you know ... stuff that happens. This is stupid. What am I thinking? Sure I can write. But structure? Pfft ... don't count on it.

Poetry ... guess I'll just stick to what I know ...

FOUR YEARS PASS ...

Novel ... I'm going to write a novel and get it published, yep ... easy peasy ... I SO know what I'm doing.

FIVE YEARS AND SEVEN DRAFTS LATER ...

About flipping time ... STRING BRIDGE! And a whole bunch of other stuff ...

What started you writing?


Check out the other ORIGINS BLOG FEST participants HERE.


My latest news:

• Yesterday I guest blogged over at DEAD GOOD BLOG about knocking down walls.
• My book trailer for String Bridge got an honorable mention in the Quiddity International Literature Journal & Public Radio Program.

I'm a professional editor and my fiction is full of typos ... GAH!

When it comes to my own work ... I'm hopeless ... 

Source

I can pull other texts apart to the point of recognizing when an apostrophe is backwards in the fine-print, but I cannot, for the life of me, seem to catch something as bold as a glaringly misspelled word in my own work ...

PS: ... I've also realized that I use way too many ellipsis ... ... ... and way too many italicized words. And they are so annoying to get rid of! :o)

What is it about our own work that makes us blind to imperfection? You think it has anything to do with love? Or could it have something to do with our side and rear view mirrors creating way to many blind spots? Or is it ... just what the beggar says?


What say you?

Do you spend too much time trying to reach a result, and forget to enjoy the process?

As many of you know, I rarely stop. Whether it's working, writing, singing, blogging, marketing, and now magazine publishing and event organizing, there is always something on the go. I don't know why I'm like this. But the more I do, the more I want to do. And the more I want to do, the more I expect from myself. Really, it's sort of an obsession. I can't sit still.

I CAN'T SIT STILL.

But I have to learn how to, otherwise I'm not even going to realize I'm doing all the things I'm doing. I'm not going to give myself the chance to really engage my whole mind, body and soul, in the moments of life I'm supposed to love (that I do love). I'm always looking to reach a result, and forgetting to enjoy the process. I think that's because I've always got so much on the go, that I'm rushed to fit things in. I even pressure myself to read a certain amount of books a year. I've decided this has to stop. I need to pace myself. And do things at a speed that doesn't jeopardize my enjoyment. Sure, I have goals. But I'm not going to overload my list this year.

This revelation came about the other day, and I wrote on Facebook, "I know this New Year's Resolution is a little late, but today I've come to this conclusion: I can not be the ten different women that are required to complete all the tasks I want to complete, and I am no longer going to expect myself to be. I will be one woman. I will accomplish what I can accomplish. And I will not allow myself to feel disappointed if I have to let something slip."

So that's how I'm going to launch into 2012. No more pressure. And I'll remember to enjoy the year. Do you ever feel like you need to be more than one person to complete your daily tasks? Do you think that's healthy?

I got my first glimpse of 'no pressure' yesterday. And my GOD it was wonderful. I printed out 45 poems (drafts) that I wrote last year, to rewrite and/or revise for a poetry collection idea I had. After about five hours of quality time -- with utter silence, cups of vanilla coffee and my poetry -- I revised a total of FOUR poems. ONLY FOUR POEMS. Because I allowed myself to cherish every single second of it, savored every word I wrote, concentrated on the meaning between every single line and read them aloud to myself. I have a sentence in my 2nd novel about rolling a word on one's tongue to taste its sound. I thought it was a cool idea, but didn't really know it was possible until yesterday. It is!

I don't know if these poems are any good, but I do know one thing: I smothered myself in absolute JOY. How? Because I did not do it to reach a result. I did it for fun. FOR FUN. To enjoy the process. I don't care if this poetry collection takes years to finish. Because when I sit down to write it, I'm going to take as long as I like, and enjoy EVERY. SINGLE. SLOW. MOMENT.

I think society nowadays is so concerned with getting things DONE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE, that we forget to take notice of how we get there. This is just so sad. Don't you think? Do you think it's time we learn to slow down? What's going to happen to the world when people forget how to wait? Or never learn patience? Disaster ... 

I probably shouldn't be saying this in public, but ...

I'm worried. About my writing. Should I admit stuff like this in public? Probably not. But I know that the reason you come here and read my blog is because of my blatant honesty. So here goes ...

I haven't done any writing since I finished the final revisions on my second novel. That was -- GASP! -- six months ago now I think. I'm so desperate to write. SO DESPERATE. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I keep putting everything else, and everyone else, first. And I keep validating those things as excuses.

I suppose I could just put my foot down and choose to write instead of reading blogs, or choose to write instead of doing a guest post for String Bridge, or choose to write instead of reading Vine Leaves submissions, or choose to write instead of keeping up-to-date on social media, or choose to write instead of reading an ARC for the sake of providing an endorsement, or choose to write instead of critiquing and/or editing others' work for free ... I could go on. But the truth is ... all those things are important too. They are all a part of my "job" now. They are all a part of what an author needs -- AND WANTS -- to do, to stay in the game.

And now there's another factor. I've just signed a 12-month contract for a position as Editorial Project Manager for an English Language Teaching company, which I will be doing from home. FULL TIME.

I'm scared. I'm SO scared, that another year is going to slip by, and I still will not have written another word on my third novel, Muted. I only have the first chapter. Six months. Sitting on a first chapter. That's. Not. Good. An what's worse? This time I need to do research. RESEARCH. Never had to do much of it before, other than a few Google searches to check my facts. But the research for this is extensive. And it has to be done, for it to reach its full potential. But can I even bring myself to open the books I bought for this very purpose? Nope. I'm being muted by MUTED! What the hell is wrong with me?

You people with kids ... how do you do it? How do you take advantage of that spare half an hour and write? I can't do that. I need at least 3 or 4 hours to really get a rhythm going. I'm slow. And I think a lot. Maybe too much. But that's how I do it, and it works. Well ... did work. Will I ever have that time slot again? And if I do, will I choose to write, or watch TV snuggling up to my partner on the couch, because he and I both know, we need that, too. To stay sane. And to have us time.

I didn't think I would be like this. I never thought life would get in the way.

But it is. Life is being one big mother-f#@%ing obstacle right now.

And I'm afraid. And worried. And afraid to be worried, because that just makes this whole thing too real. So much for keeping my head high this month ...

I need a way out of this hole.

The Benefits of Barfing ...

There are a couple of benefits that come from throwing up all weekend. But I'll get to those in a minute.

Source

Yep. I was puking like the woman possessed with the cherry pips in The Witches of Eastwick. I was not a pretty sight. I'm still not a pretty sight, because I'm quite pale ... wait ... I'm always pale. Scrap that last bit. Anyone ever felt like their stomach was an invasive rock below your ribs? That's what mine feels like right now after the workout it got.

The queasiness is still lingering, but at least I'm able to function. I'm working. Pretending to be okay. I think I've convinced myself that I'm a pretty good actor. Maybe I was good as Olivia in Twelfth Night in high school after all ...

Anyway ... the benefits:

• Somehow I drafted two guest posts and read and responded to Vine Leaves subs in between toilet visits, and can't really remember any of it. So that's cool. I got a whole heap done without comprehending any of the effort.
• I think I lost at least a kilo. Now I can positively say my skinny jeans fit me again.
• It made me think of a pretty cool analogy about writing and creativity. It's short, but savory ...

When we get the urge ... we purge ... and it all comes out like alphabet soup.

PS: Karen Walker is talking about String Bridge on her blog today. Would love for you to pay her a visit!

You got any writing analogies sprung from the fruits of illness? 

Disclaimer: Do not throw up to lose weight or to think of writing analogies. No parental guidance will make it worthwhile.