Here I Go Again On My Own

Have I lodged Whitesnake firmly in your head for the day? Good.

I revised 9 chapters out of the 34 (and I only got that far after I decided to start at the end of the book instead of the beginning). And then I decided the book was too flawed, and that it has too much of myself in it, expressed in too flawed a way. It could hurt people, and it may not be fixable. Not right now.

So I am starting fresh. It's scary, but there was a lot of good stuff in the first book. Now I know how to do it, and I think I can come up with more good stuff. It should not be finite. And since my previous record is four years, I think I can beat the time.

Nanofifort*

My book lives on the computer--on two computers, actually, because we switched computers and I tried to convert the whole thing from Word to Pages...*shudder*...it also lives in a nice jute-and-leather box that has been under my desk for a long time.

I just took it out, dusted it off, and put it on the dining room table.

I am going to revise three chapters a day, starting today, and submit my manuscript to the Amazon Breakthrough Contest on January 25th.

And then I am going to start writing a new book.

I am not going to use Facebook or Twitter until January 25th. I am not going to blog, and I am not going to drink beer or wine with my dinner.

Let's see how this goes.

*National novel-finishing fortnight

Resolved

To follow some of the precepts of two recently-discovered sites, Unclutterer and The Happiness Project...

...but also to spend less time on the computer and more time living.

To continue to keep in mind last year's words of intention, "listen" and "love without fear"...

...but also to focus on this year's word.

Embrace

I was reading in USA Today (the hotel gave it to me, okay?) about the new book by Dr. Susan Love and friends, "Live A Little." I don't think anyone can accuse me of being overly concerned about my health. I'm well acquainted with the concept of moderation and I know how to indulge. It was this that jumped out at me: "Lives that are not full enough are an overlooked problem in a popular culture focused on crazed multitaskers, Domar says."

My life is full enough. However, in the knowledge that I am an introverted, contemplative personality, I spend a lot of time trying to protect myself from my own life, instead of celebrating the fact that it is full. Brace yourself for the awkward extended metaphor. When we get the fake Christmas tree down from the attic and set it up, the branches have been compressed in storage. It needs to be "fluffed," the mini-branches on the main branches pulled out in every direction to make it look like a full and beautiful tree. All those needles are there, but it takes fluffing for the fullness to appear.

Why isn't my word of intention "fluff"? Because that would be ridiculous, and because the psychic, spiritual equivalent of fluffing--in my opinion--is embracing. I need to embrace my life as a mother (especially as a mother of a child with special needs), as a wife, as a homekeeper, as a friend, as a writer, and so on. When I'm focused on stress and shielding myself from it, my life looks like a spare and pointy tree just out of the box. When I embrace it, my life looks like a full and healthy evergreen.