Month: January 2010

The second half of January has been absolutely lovely. I’ve been mostly living my life instead of posting about it (save revision kvetching, which is obligatory) so here’s a quick catch-up post.

I turned 28 last Friday.  28 is my lucky number, which I hope means this is going to be my year.  (My friend Melody says she’s sure in some language "28" means "published."  I will love Melody forever for that.)   I received several nice phone calls and emails, and got to spend the evening with my Writer Girls, who are always awesome. Sarah, who is also mired in revision, made me this, which makes me all kinds of happy:

My revision progresses.  I thought I was done with chapter one.   I gave it one last read through and realized that no where in the chapter can I tell what my character is feeling.  This is a problem.  So back to work on it I go.  (This revision is eternal.  I’m resigned to that.)

We’re going low-budget on birthdays at our house this year (Drew’s is coming up in February), but Drew got me pickles and pistachio pudding, which are two of my very favorite foods.  I was happier with those than I would have been with pretty much anything.  Drew=Awesome.

I came home from Writer Girls to six inches of snow that hadn’t been there when I left for Salt Lake.  The snowing had stopped, so I dragged Drew out into the snow for a midnight walk.  Everything was beautiful and bright.  If it has to be winter, that’s exactly the kind of winter I like it to be.  I like to think it’s an omen.  My year indeed.

All that snow is my excuse for only having gone running three times so far this winter.  But hey, three is more than none, which is an improvement over my normal winter exercise.  Also, those day lights are working.  I can get up and function every day at an almost reasonable hour.  That’s ten dollars well spent.  (Also, the lights are likely to last me the next ten years.)

As of today I’ve finished all of the 2009 financial tasks.  (Only took me the whole month.)  Today was income taxes, which were surprisingly easy to do.  I’ve learned a lot since last year, and Quickbooks is turning into my very best friend, since it practically did the Schedule C for me.  This means I’m starting to be able to breathe again, especially since I’m now certain we have several more months before securing another income source becomes imminent.  (For those who haven’t been following, that’s been the theme of the last year.  Every month or so I go through the finances and consult Drew; we figure I should start looking for a job in a month or two.  It’s been 14 months of "in a month or two," and I still haven’t had to job search.  Much as I dislike the stress of being in limbo, I so love working from home.)

Drew’s given about a billion quotes this last week, which means February is likely to  be very, very busy on his end.  We like busy, since it means getting paid.

We’ve also signed a contract to do more Schlock minis.  Drew has the sculpt almost done, which means soon it will be on my desk rather than his, then out the door where it will multiply and return to us in pewter, rather than green.  Some days the process still takes me by surprise.

And for today’s non-sequitur, this is my fish:

I bought him in December when I was having a horrible day.  Some girls shop for shoes; I bought a three-dollar fish.  His name is Goreshade, as in the bastard.  So far, he doesn’t seem to have litchified himself.  Maybe he’s still working on the phylactery. 

I get so demoralized by revision.

This is largely because my beginnings need so much work. I have a whole book to revise, and I spend a million years revising the first three chapters. I spend all of that time looking at the other 3/4 of my book and saying to myself, “that means this revision is going to take me *4* million years! Holy #*&! Shoot me now!”

And then I get past chapter four and it’s practically done already.

If I can just get past chapter four it will be practically done already.

I can’t believe how long this revision is taking.

I haven’t taken this long on any writing project in the last four years.

The voice announcing the countdown to 4 million is drowned out only by the voice that keeps asking me if I’m really making this thing better, or if I’m just pushing words around.

This whole process would go so much easier if the stupid voices in my head would just. shut. up.

I don’t remember starting my first novel, but I do remember finishing. I was alone in my dorm room. Over four months I’d written 65,000 words, which at the time felt like a lot. The high of completion was unlike any sense of accomplishment I have ever experienced. I wanted to keep writing books for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I wish I remembered how to be impressed with myself for my writing. I’ve never felt like that again. I doubt I ever will. Writing was different when it didn’t have to matter for anything, when I didn’t have to be any good, when my future didn’t have to hang on it.

I’ve forgotten how to be impressed with myself, but I’ve learned how to work harder. The harder I work, the more I’m unable to feel anything but exhausted and relieved when I finish. For me, the hard work kills the euphoria of accomplishment. It’s gone. It’s never coming back.

#

I joined my church when I was seventeen, and that year I was on fire. I learned so much so quickly. My whole world changed, but more importantly, something inside me changed that I couldn’t describe or explain. And I liked who I was. Decisions felt easy. Spiritual connection was effortless.

But the rush of growth wore off, and then I was back to learning a piece at a time–having to work to feel comfort and peace. Going through the motions as often as feeling their meaning. For me, the day-to-day living killed the ease of connection. Nothing was as easy as it had been. That was gone. And it’s never coming back.

#

I remember talking to a friend who was also a convert to my church. He talked about wanting to get back to the way he felt in that first year, back when he was on fire. He had all sorts of plans to get back there, but they all made me feel sad.

Trying to go back didn’t seem like a healthy choice to me. The discovery of a path is euphoric, but the traveling is slow and arduous. It’s filled with a quiet peace rather than wave after wave of joy–and that quiet peace is easily drowned in the struggles and the hardship and the pain. When I take time to listen, though, I feel a strength in the ordinary, in the every day. I see the firm structures I have built for myself and I don’t want to go back to those early days, which, though euphoric, were also unstable.

I doubt I will ever recover the rush of the early days.
But trying to return to those early days isn’t going to help.
They were a necessary step, but not a destination.
Feeling euphoric about my life and my work is not the goal.
The stretching, the growing, the hard, hard work–none if it is very fun.
I don’t feel like I can expect myself to enjoy it most of the time. Because really–I don’t.

But the value of what my life is becoming matters more to me than all the euphoric beginnings in the world.

And to take the alternative–leaving the path before it’s finished–would be to throw it all away.

No, I certainly can’t do that. So back to work it is.

In the interest of not hibernating anymore this winter, I invested $10 in some daylight spectrum light bulbs at Costco. (Thanks for the tip, Melinda!) I’m now incubating under them while doing my daily blog checking and email writing and otherwise internet time-wasting before I gear myself up to get things done. (Yes, I know I’m getting to that incredibly late in the day. Hibernation, see?)

I was really sceptical about the things when I set them up last night. The white light fought with the yellow light from our regular bulbs, making the “daylight” bulbs look fluorescent.

Then I turned them on in the morning. The light from the lamps is exactly the same color as the light coming in through my window.

Maybe there’s something to this, after all.

I really, really hope this works.

For the last month and a half, this has felt like an eternal revision. Today I put my finger on why.

The good news: The farther I dig into this revision, the better the manuscript gets.

The bad news: My list of notes to change and things to work on is getting longer, rather than shorter.

The good news: Today I revamped a scene so it has more nuance and emotion.

The bad news: I also made three more pages of notes for further nuance and emotion to be written into the book. Starting at the beginning. Again.

The good news: I’ve been through the first third of the book several times. It’s gotten a lot better.

The bad news: I have twelve yellow note pages full of new notes to implement in the first three chapters–many MANY more than I started with.

The good news: The notes are more detailed and concrete than my first set.

The bad news: At this rate, I’m going to die of old age before I finish.

The good news: I’ll suffer death by insanity first. At least that’ll be a shorter way to go.

I do not appreciate changes to the tax code of which I was not notified. No, I do not appreciate them at all.

Can January just be over yet?

While in Denver over Christmas we went to an Eddie Bauer store that was going out of business. As an early birthday present, my mother-in-law bought me a pair of spiffy fleece-lined exercise pants. (They were the only pants in the store that fit me right. I’m never shopping there again. Kohl’s is still my friend.)

So today I had my very first adventure with winter running. The ground outside is still covered in snow, but the sidewalks are relatively ice-free. I figured if I hated it, I’d never have to do it again.

I didn’t hate it. I did fine, actually. The air was very, very cold, but I could breathe just fine. Next time I’m going to wear gloves and a hat, but besides my hands and ears I stayed warm. And I actually exercised, which is a winter rarity for me. I’ll have to make a point of going regularly. I have a feeling this will be a better winter if I get out and run in it more.

Between the accounting and the running and the first-day-back-ing, my body is now done. I’m going to lie down in the hopes of recovering enough to not be a vegetable all evening.

Today is the first day back from the holidays for us. Drew is busy finishing up a commission. I’ve spent the day picking up my roles one by one.

I made laundry soap, and picked up my house keeper role.

I did the December accounting and picked up my accountant role.

I’m off to patina and ship some minis (and pick up the rest of my business manager role).

Tomorrow I pick up the writer role with my continued revision. (I can’t account and revise in the same day. Bad, bad for the brain.)

Later this week there will be photos to take and edit.

An apartment to keep clean.

Friends to play with. Games to play and run.

All my roles will be back in full swing.

I love my life. It feels so good to be back in a rhythm.