Little wins

So, I’m not really a schedule type person. They annoy me greatly, in fact. I despise having to be somewhere at a certain time or having to produce something on a certain timeline. It makes me extraordinarily fussy. Which, of course, makes things super obnoxious for the people who have to interact with me on any sort of regular or, like, ever basis.

It’s really fortunate I’m actually so charming and funny.

*awkward silence*

Anyway. Even though schedules aren’t my thing, I’ve come to realize how important a schedule can be to the craft of writing, especially when attempting to better oneself at said craft. Many writers swear by writing at the same time, even in the same place, every day, as a bit of ritual to shift the brain into the coveted “zone.” For someone who literally doesn’t do anything at the same time every day, though, that prospect is slightly daunting, so perhaps it’s something I’ll work up to. But for now, I’ve decided that posting to the blog at least every other day is probably a very doable and practical starting schedule for me. And I’ve been treating it as an actual deadline, even telling my SLNH (scruffy-looking nerfherder) the other night that he was on bedtime duty because I had a writing deadline. It sounded completely ridiculous when I said it out loud, of course, but he loves the idea and was all, “Hell yeah, baby, no problem. You write and meet that deadline.”

SPLOOSH.

That meant today was a posting day, so this morning, after getting the children situated with breakfast and a show (whatevs, it’s how we do), I got back in bed with the coffee my SLNH made me before he left for work and began to write. I was then interrupted approximately 87 times by my adorable progeny demanding I address myriad immediate needs such as second breakfast, cuddles for a stubbed toe, and finding that one particular super tiny toy that ended up being at the very bottom of a large basket of nonsense in their room.

You know. Parenting stuff.

But every time I came back to the piece I was working on, I liked it less and less because that’s a thing that happens quite frequently. So eventually I just left it to moulder and debated whether I would even come back to it at all. Sometimes when this happens, I can and do come back to it later in the day and force myself to slash and edit and add until I’m mostly happy with it, but today I was just not feeling it.

Now, in the not very distant past, I would have just wallowed in the fact that I spent so much time writing such obvious crap today and reminded myself that clearly I just don’t write good and probably gotten high to make myself (temporarily) feel better. But this evening I thought of my self-imposed schedule and about how proud I’ve been of myself for meeting it for a whole entire week now and decided I would feel way better posting something today, even if it was just a description of my challenging writing day.

And guys, guys, guys–that’s HUGE for me. Because the longer I allow myself to wallow about my shitty-to-me writing, the longer it takes me to get back to doing it, and some of you know full well that my previous attempts at blogging have been sporadic at best. So me pushing through and writing this very brief (for me) post tonight is pretty fucking cool and exciting and encouraging and at least several other words of that nature.

Also, holy shit, you guys. I bought a fucking sketchbook today so I can make what will no doubt be a tragic attempt at concept art to help me visualize the fantasy world I’m building for my book. And seeing as I’ve quite literally been openly laughed at more than once in the past for my sad, sorry drawing ability, and that I loathe doing things I don’t naturally do well, this is also a pretty significant move for me. But thankfully no one else has to see them and I quite enjoy laughing at myself, so it should at the very least be entertaining.

Oh, ALSO, I had to finally give up the Pepsi because it was wayyyyyyy too easy to drink like six of them a day and my rapidly slimming midsection was suddenly looking and feeling fluffier than it had been a week ago, so, you know. Drastic measures and all that.

Super sad face.

As always, thanks for being here, friends. Imma go binge the new season of The 100 now because despite my generally being super picky and elitist about my TV, I really fucking like that show, dammit.

Peace, love, and zero-calorie Monsters, bitches!

 

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