What’s Your Vision for 2020

I don’t make resolutions. Why bother with a mission that gets broken in the first week? Instead, I opt for challenges. Some short term. Some long term.

I do choose a word for the year. Last year it was “clarity.” Did I gain clarity last year? Perhaps a tiny bit. I did finish the memoir. I didn’t publish it. Why? Because I still need a little more clarity. It’s a work in progress until I figure it out. I’ll carry that word into 2020.

And, I’ll add a new word. This year it is “compassion.” There I’ve said it. Now, as to what that means to me. I see it as letting go of some of the baggage of the past to make room for peace and understanding going forward. How else can one develop compassion? We’ll see how that goes.

Now about those challenges. I’m stuck.

I signed up for #1wordpromptchallenge on Instagram figuring I could do anything for one month. But that seems like such a long time. Maybe I’ll rethink that.

Commit30 seemed like a good option. That’s one day less than the 31 days of January Instagram commitment. Seemed doable. That is until I discovered that it means you commit to one thing for 30 days. Then you choose another commitment for the next 30 days. And so on. It’s never ending and I can’t think of more than two things I want to commit to: No sugar and No Spending. Notice, I said “want” not “plan.”

I could choose the Top 10 Favorites list series. Oh, but what would those lists incorporate? Would I have to tell my 10 deepest secrets? 10 fears? 10 sins? Now that is just plain scary.

The options to on and on and on. 7 Things to Do for Yourself in 2020, 30 Days of Joy, 40 Questions to Ask Yourself Each Year, Success Maps, 20 Goals in 2020, Daily Gratitude, Writing 20 Minutes a Day, Writing a #50wordstory every day, Habit Trackers, Affirmations, Mind Maps.

AHA… I have just had a brilliant thought. I was thinking all these challenges involve writing, blogging, journaling, or posting to social media. Those are all accountability challenges. In the end we only must be accountable to our own selves. So, in that case, I’m going to choose to do whatever pleases me on any given day. Today I stayed in bed until noon, created a vision board and ate waffles for brunch.

What’s your vision for 2020?

Final First Draft

Twice this week Big Brother has emailed comics to me. Speed Bump and Pickles. Go ahead and click on them. They are safe. You might even laugh. I can take a hint. I get it. “When’s the &#*$ memoir going to be done?”

So, what did I do? It’s obvious my blog posts have been a bare minimum. Do you get it now? I’ve been writing. It was a beautiful day out there today in my neighborhood but I didn’t step foot out the door. I got up, salutated the sun, drank my coffee, and glued my butt to the chair.

Morning affirmations: “I’m so close. I can finish this. Today.”

And I did.

Someone said “print it out.” I did that too, almost passing out from the fumes of 309 hot pages spitting out of my new laser printer. I punched holes, three sheets at a time, with my inexpensive paper punch. Found an old binder left over from tax course days.

So there. Here it is. Ready for the red pen.

Can I go for a walk now, Big Brother?

5 Ways an Author Blog Could Kill Your Writing (and What to Do Instead) | WritersDigest.com

I discovered I am not unique. Just like other writers who start a blog because they were told that we must build an online presence before we publish our books: I started my blog – my posts were fewer and fewer each month – I posted excuses for my absences. Now I find out that this might have been my biggest mistake:

Static author websites are great, and you’d be crazy not to have one. But starting an author blog is a different (and often tragic) story. In fact, your author blog might even kill your writing. There are hundreds of authors who started blogs, churned out posts for a year, and let it come to a dead stop.

Source: 5 Ways an Author Blog Could Kill Your Writing (and What to Do Instead) | WritersDigest.com

I Wanted To Write

I wanted

to write a book that would tear your insides apart with laughter, not heartbreak.
to write tiny bites of my life with enough humor to leave my readers with howling belly aches over exaggerated blimps and bleeps.
to write the best selling memoir full of wit and wisdom, one that would live on the nightstand of every parent on this earth who might need a quick dose of humor following a particularly harrowing day.
to write with a keen sense of humor to keep my readers turning the pages (or swiping their Kindles) to the very last word.
to write the takeaways that would lead to joyful resolution for all who read my words.

Meanwhile I have

written the necessary 90,000 words of a pitiful and shitty first draft (ala Anne Lamott), just to get over it.
highlighted the questionabull, deleted the distractabull, rewritten the sustainabull, and added the conceivabull.
hit the muddy middle and squirreled away at least sixty hours of mindless FaceBook gaming in the last thirty days.

The time has come

to send away the critics and bring in the clowns.
to let go of the past.
to write that final chapter.

If nothing else comes of this

I can say I wrote a book
My inner self will be sufficiently mended.
I can be a better person.
I still have a sense of humor.

BUT maybe one day I’ll sit at the Algonquin table in Dorothy Parker’s mink coat signing copies of my phenomenal book.

Read A Book Day

What are you reading? What shall I read next? No, don’t tell me. My TBR stack is taller than my bed; my tablet has an accumulation of at least 100 books that I have not read. Let’s not even talk about the Audible account. Fact is, I collect all these books with the best of intentions. Perhaps it’s an illness. Notice I did not say addiction. It’s healthy, isn’t it? Read a review in the paper – buy the book. Attend a book signing – buy the book. Visit the library – buy a book from the discards. Browse a book store (if you can find one) – buy a book. Go to a writer’s conference – raid the book table. Join a writer’s group – buy all their books. They are everywhere. I can’t stop.

If it weren’t for Goodreads, I’d have no idea which ones I’ve read. Just like movies – I know I enjoyed them – especially those I rated *****. BUT, if you ask me what they were about, I’d get confused, mix up characters, places and books. It really doesn’t matter. I’ve never been the kind of person to join a book club and critique each chapter page by page. I’ve never been much of a reviewer either. For me reading is an escape. It’s all about being entertained, having a good laugh, guessing the outcome, and feeling good that I’m not the only one who is writing the most dysfunctional life memoir.

Now about that memoir. Yes I have a few more words, maybe even another chapter. Save room on your TBR list. It will be available ~~soon~~… some day. Maybe by next September 6th when Read-A-Book-Day rolls around again.