My goal for 2014, a year that I have dubbed to be my most amazing year, has started out a little on the slow side. I didn’t make wild resolutions about losing ninety pounds in three months, keeping my car clean or to stop dropping the F-bomb because I knew there was no fucking way I could do that. But I did give myself a goal, goals I can do, I’ve reached goals I’ve given myself plenty of times. So I set a goal to write a chapter every day no matter what. I thought to myself, this is a realistic goal, my chapters aren’t very long and I think about my characters every day. No lie, I really do, at least 9 times out of 10, (really 9 out of 10), I wake up in the morning thinking about my characters. In the shower, brushing my teeth, or having coffee. I think about what will happen to them today. Will they have a good or bad day. Will they start their morning with a little bow chicka wow wow or will their night end that way. Will their bow chicka wow wow be interrupted with some sort of argument, a friend or a murder. And that is just the morning.
Heading to work I stay focused on my driving, trying to put them out of my head, which is not easy because as soon as I come to a stop light, I wonder what they would do in a car. Where are they headed and so on. But once I get to work it starts all over again and I am jotting little notes to myself all day, ideas of conversations or events that sound good and I don’t want to forget. But then ten hours later after my day has ended my ass is tired.
By time I get home, drag myself upstairs and push my way through the door my brain is mush. I drop my stuff and plop on the couch, letting my head fall back and I sigh. I look at my computer out of the corner of my eyes and think I just need to relax for a minute.
I eventually pick up my note book sitting next to me and flip through everything I’ve written down and think, I should be writing.
I push myself off the couch, because I have a goal right, and I sit down at my computer. I pull up word and up pops the story I am working on and I sigh. But I realize one should not sigh when one is working on the greatest novel to ever be written in the whole entire universe. So what do I do? I get up from my computer, pour a glass of wine, grab my nook and read. Do I feel like a failure, fuck no. I would rather walk away than write a bunch a crap that I’ll just have to rewrite because I was to tired make sense in the first place.
I have come to realize that I am not alone. I follow a lot of different writers and I have noticed that some, not all, but some have vowed to write everyday in this new year of 2014. And as with some lofty resolutions, goals, promises or what ever it is you want to call them, life creeps in. Do you beat yourself up over it? No. Just drink your wine and try again tomorrow. You’ll finish that novel and it will still be the most amazing year to date.
P.S I have changed my goal. My goal is to write when I want to. So far it’s working out.