I’m not apologizing. Just stating a fact. Here it goes:
I realized that I needed something more in my life shortly after my 32nd birthday. Don’t get me wrong, I had a pretty good life. I had a cute little house, a job that I didn’t hate most of the time and a wonderful fiancĂ© (the BEST!) I had hobbies that kept me busy, reading and gardening. Even with those things, I needed something else to challenge me besides planning a wedding which would be over in a few short months anyway. I need something creative to fill the void.
My mind kept coming back to what I used to love doing more than anything else – writing. When most teenagers were out having fun and causing trouble, I was at home reading or in front of my Brother word processor, my most prized possession after my romance novel collection. During the weekends and breaks from school, I stayed up late into the night and sometimes into the wee hours of the morning typing away. (I was the only person I knew my freshman year of college that could type 90 words a minute.) During those late hours I wrote about love, mystery, murder, places I had never been to and probably never would. I wrote thousands upon thousands of words. I was a writer.
Somewhere in my twenties, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment though I’ve tried, I gave up on writing. Maybe it was because I was sure all my writing was utter crap or maybe I was tired of schlepping old manuscripts from apartment to apartment, but one day I just threw it all away, all of those old printed sheets of paper, all of those crumpled legal pads full of scribbles. I would give almost anything to have those back again. Not because it was really great writing. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was awful writing, but it represented who I used to be and who I could be again if I dared.
Sure, I resurrected the old writing bug every now and again and bought a few books on the craft. I even managed to jot down a page or two, but as quickly as the bug came, it left, and I moved on from that dream again.
So in May of 2010 (yes, I’m 33 and a Taurus) I had an inkling of an idea for a novel and some determination that I would write this time. Even if I just wrote for me. I had thrown that part of myself away before. Never again.
I decided to put my writing project off until after the wedding. I knew I was going to write about Faeries so I bought all of the books I could on the subject. I discovered Katharine Briggs and Brian Froud and Peter Dubois. I devised a plan. 2011 was going to be the year. I was excited as I was terrified.
Now as we arrive at 2012, I have to say I’ve come a long way.
Last night I finished the first draft of a short story (15,000 words) that I started over the summer. I know that’s not much, but I finished a draft of something. I haven’t done that since I was 18 years old.
I’ve written over 150,000 words in 2011 between blog posts, my NaNo project and a few failed drafts. For someone like me, that’s a lot of freaking words. They may not be the right words or in the right order, but they are my words.
I started my own blog which I vowed I would never do. I always assumed blogging played into society’s narcissistic tendencies. Maybe it does, but I love writing Pixies Don’t Have Wings. Thank you to all of you that take the time to read my posts and follow my blog. I appreciate each and every one of you.
My husband and I both participated in NaNoWriMo. We were both winners though we are still working on our manuscripts. 50,000 words do not make a novel, but it’s a damn good start.
Last night I asked my husband what his New Year’s resolution was. He told me he was going to make better use of his time. It was a brilliantly simple resolution that carried a great deal of power. I decided I was going to steal his idea.
My name is Buffy and I’m a New Year’s resolution thief.
So was does “Make better use of my time” mean to me?
· It means that must put aside time every day to write. I have time to sit down on the couch and watch a mindless hour of Storage Wars. I don’t even like the show. I can make time to do something I love.
· It means that I take the time to make myself healthy meals instead of eating out or ordering take out. Cooking isn’t hard and I’m good at it. I have no excuses.
· It means doing something physical three times a week. I leave four doors down from a freaking park. Enough said.
· It means spending quality time with my husband. He’s the love of my life. It’s the least thing I can do to show him that I appreciate him every day.
Specifically, my writing goals are as follows:
· Finish revising and editing The Dark King’s Lover, a short of approximately 15,000 words. I will try to find a place to publish it.
· Finish the first draft of my NaNo book, Enlightened. If I think it has enough potential, I’m going to revise and edit. Maybe there is a publisher out there for this work. If not, it was a great learning experience and I can always release it as a serial on my blog.
· Finish the first draft of Darkness Peering, the first in the trilogy I have been dreaming of since May of 2010. I will tell Greer’s story if it kills me.
· Continue with Faerie Fridays and add more quality posts to my blog. I have a lot say about faeries. Well, I do!
What did you learn from 2011 about yourself? What are your goals in 2012?