It’s the 4th of July and in the states, that means it’s Independence Day, the day our founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence, declaring our new nation’s independence from the Kingdom of Great Britain. I celebrate with the rest of my country and eat hot dogs and watch fireworks, thinking of what this day really means. To many, they would say Freedom.
Here’s what I am adding to today. While watching your town’s parade or listening to a Sousa march, or even while at work or spending a Friday night watching your favorite movie if you’re not into celebrating or in a different country, I challenge you all to do this: Declare your freedom.
That’s right. State your independence loud and clear–say you’re not going to be victim to self-doubt, that you will finish that story, that you can do it.
Declare to the world that You Are A Great Writer. Write it down. Scream it out loud. Embroider it on a pillow. Just believe it. Because you are.
I can’t help it. Every time I think or hear the phrase “Respect the streak.” I think of Bull Durham. (Side note: Bull Durham has many life lessons, and I’m sure I’ll address them in the future, but for today, we’re going to stick with what to do with a streak.)
For those of you who have not seen Bull Durham (judgement withheld) or have forgotten this part of it, Crash (Kevin Costner) and Annie (Susan Sarandon) are having a fight about Crash’s mentoring of Ebby Calvin “Nuke” LaLoosh (Tim Robbins), specifically as it relates to Annie and Nuke’s sexual relationship. This is the gist of that fight:
Annie: Oh fine.
Crash: You know why? Because they don’t – -they don’t happen very often.
Crash: If you believe you’re playing well because you’re getting laid, or because you’re not getting laid, or because you wear women’s underwear, then you are! And you should know that!
Wise words, Crash. Wise words, indeed. But why I’m bringing this up today is this–I’m on a streak. It started last Friday, so out of the blue I still can’t believe it. Now, part of the wisdom of Respecting the Streak, is a bit of superstition. If you believe you’re writing well for whatever reason, then you are! What I mean by that is I’m not going to say anything more about the streak, because I believe that talking too much about it drains it of its juju and I want to keep on drinking this particular glass of juju. May it never empty.
Respect the streak, people.
Yes, it finally happened. I got THE CALL. And, I found, just like the Kübler-Ross Five Stages of Grief model, there are Five Stages to THE CALL.
Betcha didn’t know that, did you? Well, neither did Wikipedia. If you can believe it, they had nothing on the Five Stages of The Call. (And I thought I could trust the internet…)
So, for your edification, here they are:
1. Not surprisingly, the first stage of THE CALL is the same as the first stage of grief: Denial
2. Where grief goes to anger, the second stage of THE CALL goes to Belief.
3. Bargaining is stage three of grief, but the third stage of THE CALL is Joy.
4. Grief’s depression is nowhere near THE CALL’s fourth stage–Realization (a.k.a. Really Sinking In.)
5. And then there’s stage five. Grief’s fifth stage is acceptance, and it’s rather similar to THE CALL’s–acceptance of what just happened, a.k.a. CELEBRATION!!!
Take that, Wikipeida.
March is supposed to come in like a lion, right? Well, that’s the plan.
Actually, the plan is to have February leave like a lion, March come in like one, then leave like a 7-headed chupacabra beast that was created in the nightmares of Ray Harryhausen and and has since be tormented, starved, and deprived of all chocolate. I think it’s safe to say, March is going to end like a BEAST!!
Something came up where the previous writing became editing, but all good. Forward progress on the writing, be it putting words on the page or editing those there is the goal and hey–sometimes the plan has to be altered. Organic plans, that’s me.
Sending you all juju for happy writing.
Yes, I know–I missed yesterday. Three nights of poor sleep will do that to you. Speaking of which…
Writing is a marathon, I think we’ve all heard that and I believe it. Granted, not everybody’s marathon is the same length, but for the most part, it’s a marathon. Sometimes you can sprint. I did that Monday with my 3K words. (I think my record for one day is 9K, but for me, those are few and far between.) Then there are days you take one step. That was yesterday.
I wrote one page in my page-a-day project and that was it, but that’s okay. It was one step, and one step forward is my minimum goal for any day. Could be a sentence, could be a paragraph, could be a page–it’s a black-and-white issue to me and a win for one sentence is a win for 9K words.
My goal for today is any writing, 1K at the least, I hope. I think I can do that. So, time to write.
P.S. On Tuesday I did write 1380 or so, so let’s round up to 1400 words. Better than nothing, so the day was a win.
So, day 1 of my self-imposed, week-long writing challenge was a success. My stretch goal was 4K words and I got a little over 3100. (I also did my page-a-day project at lunch, so I guess it’s 3100 words + 1 handwritten page.)
And I gotta say, it felt gooooooood. Like dark chocolate with sea salt and toffee pieces good. My goal for today is another 3K–I don’t really have a stretch goal. Right now I’m more focused on a rhythm, so if it’s 3K, then that is fine and dandy with me.
So, a little tidbit about the book I’m trying to word-count into submission this week–it’s not a romance. It’s not even historical. I guess, for right now, we’ll call it a thriller. To give you an idea, here’s one of the key songs in my soundtrack:
Hope you enjoy. See you tomorrow.
Hello and happy February!
I’ve got an easier real-life schedule this week, so I’m going to take the down time and put it toward my writing. I’ve got a project I need to finish and I want this week to be some energy for that last push. I figure it’ll also get me back into blogging, so win-win, right?
So is anybody else starting out February with a goal or two?
Holy shit. I remember my password.
Guess I’d better start blogging again.
I had a teacher in high school, a really amazing one, but she had MS. She never said what it was, if anything, but every February seemed to beat her up pretty badly. March was a celebration because it simply was no longer February. Well, Mrs. Anderson, I now know how you feel.
Now I’m not saying my life is anything like somebody’s fighting such a cruelly debilitating muscular disease, but I’ve come to the conclusion that my Mays are Mrs. Anderson’s Februarys–I, too, get the living shit beat out of me. I’ll save you the gory details, but suffice it to say, I was a damn happy camper Saturday morning, because it was June 1st.
June 1st. Say it with me now. Juuuuuuune first. *inhales deep and cleansing breath*
Truth be told, April was a bitch-on-wheels too, but May is the one that’s always painted the target on my back. This year I got a twofer. Lucky me. But that doesn’t matter, because it is now June. June, June, lovely June.
The Girls are strong and fierce with their ideas, I’ve got some great things planned writing-wise, and some really fun events to look forward to. I tell ya, this June–and this summer–is going to be epic. Amazeballs. Legen–wait for it–
So in honor of today, June 3rd, a most awesome day to be sure, I give you a mighty hymn from the Church of Cayne.
They did it again! The Girls just had me put Hold Me Now by the Thompson Twins on a playlist. What is it with the 80s thing? Next thing you know, I’ll be putting leg warmers and asymmetrical haircuts in my historical romances…. Sheesh.