Having One of Those Moments

Years ago, after I broke up with a horrible ex, he screamed and yelled at me and cursed me.  Literally.  His words were, "I curse you!  I hope you'll never be happy!"

A horrible thing to wish on someone whether you believe in curses or not.  I'm not sure if I do believe in curses, but sometimes I worry that his had some power behind it.  Because I can't seem to satisfy myself with anything lately.  Christmas is looking rather gray because I'm broke and I can't do what I'd like for my family and friends.  And my future is just so uncertain.  There are so many things I want to do, but they all require money, which is something I've never been blessed with.  I wouldn't care anything about it if it wasn't required for EVERYTHING.  I can't even go visit friends or family out of state without worrying about how I'm going to pay for the gas to get there. 

Beyond that, I want to go back to school, travel, enjoy a concert every once in a while, spend all day in a museum.  These things should be so simple, but seem incredibly far away to me right now.  I work hard and try to entertain myself, give myself projects to keep me sane, hang out with friends and enjoy occasional company, but nothing contents me anymore.  I'm restless and I feel useless. 

Then comes the part when I tell myself it's all my own fault.  If I was braver or more willing to give up the things that give me comfort, maybe I'd be closer to where I feel I should be at this age.  Then I worry about getting older and becoming the ridiculous old woman at the bar who everybody thinks is crazy because she drove away the ones who loved her and the ones she loved never loved her back.  I sometimes see myself as that old lady that younger poets write about and that makes people thankful for what they have. 

I am thankful for what I have, but this little part of me that I wish I could switch off can't stop thinking about the things I don't.  I know I have to learn to roll with it and not worry about it or I have to figure out a way to earn those things I don't have.  I just don't know where to start or what path would lead me there.  I used to comfort myself with the thought that "I'll figure it out someday."  But now I'm getting too old for that.  Maybe that's what has kept me from the success (or at least the CONTENTMENT) I always imagined.  That procrastination.  That "I'll figure it out eventually" mindset.

But how do you get out of that?  I've made so many weird plans that never happened because something else got in the way.  Maybe I've been too busy looking for an easier path to see the one I really want to follow.  But after so long, how do you start over with no resources.  I've been wandering the woods too long.  I've run out of food and water and my clothes are threadbare.  I'm afraid now I'd never survive that rougher path. 

Sorry for the despair, folks.  Just having one of those moments.  I'll get over it and reset myself.  I've done it plenty of times.  I'll reset myself and start looking around for that path I probably didn't see before.  Retrace my steps.  Maybe I won't end up back here again.

8497 - Way Behind

So I'm over my fit and I realize I really need to get cracking.  This one part is taking me way too long to write, but it's winding down and hopefully from there it will get quicker. 

Micah and I had to properly prepare for the new Harry Potter movie by indulging our mutual laziness with a years 1-6 marathon.  Was totally worth lounging around all weekend, but the time has come for action. 

I've come near to admitting that this nanowrimo challenge is not meant for writers like me, but I accepted this personal challenge, so I have to at least attempt to see it through.  Hopefully I'll find myself in a proper place to bust out 10,000 words in a couple days.  I've done it before and I'm perfectly capable of doing it again.  Now I just have to get my mind right and steamroll through the rest of this long and arduous section of the novel. 

It's rainy and gross here today, which tends to be prime writing conditions.  Bring me the magic, O Muse.

Thoughts on Nanowrimo from 6026.

True I haven't gotten as far as I'd hoped.  True I've been attempting to maintain a life during all of this.  True my novel is going to need some editing.

But please forgive me nanowrimo folks, if I do not share your enthusiasm for word wars.  I know the point of this is to get as much down as possible, but at the cost your work's integrity? 

I'm sorry, but even if I am going to attempt 50,000 words in one month, they're going to be decent words that make sense and tell the story the way I want it told.  And maybe some of you are capable of the word counts past 50,000 that I often see the second week of November.  And hats off you are capable of that many words that quickly that do tell a good and engaging story.  But how many writers are REALLY capable of a novel full of turns and twists and character development and their own blood, sweat, and tears and some kernel of a truth that they want to communicate that's past 50,000 words after two weeks? 

How long did it take Jane Austen to write Pride and Prejudice?  How long did J.D. Salinger spend on Cather in the Rye or did Melville spend on Moby Dick?  It's true we're not Austens, Salingers and Melvilles.  I'm very aware of that.  But really.  50,000 words in two weeks?

And I'm sorry I am slow, nano group.  But my slowness means you don't even want to allow me to share what I had written during that 10 minutes when you were all racing each other to see who could spill their soul the quickest?  Because I'm not fast I don't count?  Really?  Maybe I don't in this particular exercise.  Maybe I'm missing the point of this.

Nonetheless, I will continue to slowly climb my way toward 50,000.  And hopefully I'll be pleased with them all when I earn the privilege of a bound copy.  It'll take me longer and I'll probably continue to say odd things that don't matter to the speed writers, but by God I'm doing this my way.  Are you?