I was supposed to meet up with my friend D at a Panera’s somewhere between us to spend the day working. On writing.
Instead, I woke up thinking maybe this head/sinus thing I’ve been blaming on allergies is actually a cold and I ended up talking both D and myself out of getting together.
I did get on the treadmill, but it was like trying to trek through wet sand. Bleh.
I am not happy with myself.
But I refuse to spend my looooooong weekend feeling unhappy with myself. So had to end that. 
Right now The Scott and I are waiting for sushi to arrive (LOVE it when Scott cooks!). And then I’m going to soak in a long hot bath.
Also, I am noodling with the story. I know a few things I need to fix. One of them before I send it out to the group. But my impulse today is to try to picture the Big Moment, near the end. And see how I can work backward from there. And what that says. If anything. I probably don’t even have to say this but: Plotting is so difficult for me to do. I keep trying it from different angles but it’s like trying to see into a bank of fog. I can only see so far, no matter what direction I approach it from. That oh-so-important stuff in the middle remains vague and indecipherable.
Posted in writing
You cannot go to the New Jersey Romance Writer’s conference this year just because Jennifer Crusie is going to be teaching.
Don’t you even think it!
Tags:
wishing, writing
Posted in writing
I saw this article by Robin Abrahams linked to on a loop and it’s got me thinking.
Would you be the jester or the shaman, the explorer or the teacher?
Whatever you would be, that’s what you are. Writing is only how you’re doing it.
Off the cuff, I think I’m at least part jester, and maybe part explorer. I’m definitely not a teacher. And it’s hard to think of myself in terms of a shaman.
What is it I’m trying to do with my writing? Get a reaction. Right? That’s the jester part.
Hmmmmm . . . maybe I’m ALL jester!
Shutup Marjanna!
Posted in writing
[Cross-posted to my critique group's blog.]
I used to have a growth mindset. Now I worry that I have a fixed mindset. When life went bellyup on me (15 yrs ago?!) I think I switched from growth to fixed. I need to switch back!!! But how?
I remember that I used to take more chances — particularly with my writing. I wrote short stories and sent them out. I threw myself into a medieval romance novel and sent it to the GH. Even though I don’t have a historical bone in my body. Even though I had less time back then, because my kids were little.
But after life went all Death Star on me, I went into protective mode. Braced for disaster. It might have been necessary at first — but I’m STILL there. The layoffs at the office haven’t helped. Part of me still feels braced for disaster. But it’s not TRULY necessary. If I lose my job, it won’t impact my kids. They’re launched. They’re fine. And I would be too. I know that intellectually, but my limbic system doesn’t seem to believe it.
I fear change and risk and I know that I find myself enjoying repetitive success — just because it’s a reliable success.
The one step I’ve made toward reversing this is that I’ve banned myself from entering anymore contests. Every time I see notice of a contest, I get tempted. Because it’s just enough of a risk, that it feels like I’m in a growth mindset. Yet, it gets me no closer to the BIG risk, the ultimate goal. And if I do fail, it’s no big.
It’s a safe step that I’ve taken over and over with several (four now?) manuscripts since the Death Star.
I knew entering contests was getting in my way — but until I read this article, I didn’t fully understand how.
I’m still not sure that I do.
But it feels like my eyes are somehow more open. Maybe that’s a start.
Tags:
risk, writing
Posted in Uncategorized
I’m working the Weight Watchers — again — so the chocolate has to be planned for, and, when finally partaking, it must be savored.
Tonight, the chocolate of choice was a small, thin square of Hershey’s Extra Dark with Pomegranate.
The moment I opened the wrapper, the fragrance escaped, tantalizing my nose with rich sweetness and the scent of the forbidden.
It tasted good.
But it SMELLED diVIne . . .
Tags:
WW
Posted in Uncategorized
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