Let Go and Just Write

Once I took restrictions off myself, things got easier.

I used to think I had to publish things at exactly the same time every day or forgo doing it, which in turn just made me write less, if at all, and made me publish even less. I also thought that I had to publish things in publications. I would submit and wait, and obsess, and obsess, and obsess.

Little writing got done, if at all, because all I was interested in was clicking to see if it got published, accepted, rejected, what were other people doing, what is wrong with me, why isn't my writing good enough? These things ran through my head constantly and destroyed me.

But when I published in amazing publications with a lot of subscribers, guess what happened?

My writing got less notice than when I would publish without a publication. So, I decided it didn’t matter, I didn’t need a fancy publication, I didn’t need to have the downward spiral when a publication rejected me. I didn’t need to waste my time waiting for them to take more than a week to tell me I stink. The stress that I put myself through just because that’s what I thought I needed to do ruined my writing. It made me not care because I cared too much, and it was an emotional rollercoaster with more downs than ups. 

Now, I'm not good with sticking to things, I love to have a routine, but if something is just slightly off with that routine, then the whole thing gets thrown out the window. The thing that has been working for me for the last week may suddenly get derailed because I miss a day of writing then I think I have to binge watch a show, then I have to organize my daughters closet, then it’s too late to write because I am just exhausted from doing near nothing for the whole day.

Once I got rid of the thought that I HAD to do things a certain way, that’s when I was able to get going.

What I’ve been doing is writing only one article every day. I'm not putting word count restrictions on myself, I'm not putting certain topic restrictions on myself, I'm not putting any restrictions on myself. Write one article a day. I am also doing it outside with my feet in the dirt and my sunhat on while my daughter plays. Maybe this has accounted for my mood, doing something I feel like I have to and want to do, outside, in the sunshine while surrounded by my happy daughter. 

My no pressure strategy has helped me to write more.
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Quiet Please

I need alone time more than I need anything else in life right now, or so I thought

I have a husband, a daughter that is almost three and is just starting to get good at the terrible twos thing, four big dogs, three cats, one of which thinks he’s a dog and weighs about the size of a small dog. He even eats the dog food, wants to be outside with the other stinky mutts, and challenges them at times and wins. The dogs back down; maybe it’s because he has claws or they think he is one mean alpha pup.

Everyone wants to be around me at all times

I never get a moment to my self; there is always some warm body trying to snuggle up to me or wanting to be fed. Between being a stay at home mom and the only housekeeper (which I’ve given up on because I clean and turn around and there's a new mess,) I get no me time. In a house full of animals who don’t pick up after themselves I’m no match, I would constantly be cleaning every second of my life.

I'm surrounded by dog farts and hairballs, and a whiny preschooler who’s only response is “NOOOOO!”

I remember a time when my house was quiet. I could think, I could watch TV, anything I wanted without someone wanting to highjack the remote, read a book. Oh a book, I miss being able to put 100% of my focus into a book. I used to take a bath without someone barging into the bathroom, asking for something. I could sleep in, until past noon, or anytime I wanted. Sleeping in doesn’t exist anymore. I'll never be able to sleep in for the rest of my life. Sleep, real sleep I will never have.

Gone are the days that I feel well rested.

I have a family now, and even though I long for those freedoms that I used to have, I realize too that there were things I was missing. I was extremely lonely. I had no one to rely on. I had no one to love and no one to love me back. I didn’t have a little hand grabbing mine; I didn’t have someone asking me to hold them. I didn’t have someone to snuggle with. I didn’t have someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be ok when I needed it the most. I didn’t have someone to pick up the slack when I just couldn’t.

I wasn’t in a fog of dog farts and hair tumbleweeds, and chocolate ice cream dripped on the floor and never cleaned up, and taking the shortest showers known to man because who has time for it when you’ve got more important things pulling you in every direction. But that is what pulls me forward, every day now. I may never get alone time, me time, quiet time or whatever you want to call it, but I have US time, and that is greater than any nice warm bath taken in a quiet, empty house.
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Seeking Silence

The world reminds me that I don’t fit,
It speaks constantly,
I seek silence in the chaos.

Every day when I can't find the right thing to say,
When I see others fitting in like they are the perfect puzzle piece,
When I get judged because I want to observe and sit quietly,
I see what is important.

I see who people are when my mouth is still.

It’s amazing what you hear in the silence,
What secrets you find out,
When people finally stop talking,
They reveal themselves.

And I am not accepted because I choose not to be like others.

I find no need to talk, and talk, and talk.

I am me, I choose to embrace the quiet.

And you are who you are,
You choose to be loud,
You choose to talk and judge me because I am not like you.
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Trashing My First Book

I learned the hard way what not to do when writing a book.

Now I know why you don’t publish your first book. If you don’t know what you are doing, you create a mess for yourself.

I didn’t have a plan, I thought ‘I’m a panser, this book is going to be great. Real writers don’t need to spend months plotting out their book.’

But I was wrong, seriously wrong, and I learned from it. I understand why people spend a lot of time writing a book, editing it, perfecting it, then they don’t write another one.

It’s a lot of work if you don’t know what you’re doing, that’s the same with everything in life. If you don’t do the research and figure out the best way to do something, it soon becomes harder to fix your mistakes. And believe me, you will make a lot of mistakes if you just jump in with both feet.

You want to have a good product; you want to show the world your talent.

But I am impatient. I want to get it done and get it out there. I have absolutely no patience anymore. If it doesn’t give me satisfaction immediately, I move on. Trying to write a book the right way will definitely test your patience. It takes time, unlike writing a short article, editing it, and hitting publish, then getting feedback, comments, and likes (claps.) Now that’s instant gratification!

Maybe I'm not cut out to be a novelist, and that’s not ok with me. I want to be an author; I want that feeling of accomplishment. I want to be able to say I wrote a book. But most of all I have it in me, the need to write a book, I have lots of ideas and stories, and I feel it pulling me. I need to do it.

In actuality, I did write two books, two very short books, novelettes, I guess you would call them, with the intention to write more of the story, five more novelettes, to be exact, and create a series. But based on my grand scheme to just let the muse drive the bus, without bothering to ask them where exactly we were going, I royally screwed up the first book in the series, and now I don’t have the motivation to rewrite the whole 30,000 words.

My first book, the idea I thought would be great, my book baby, turned out to be a disaster. I ruined it by rushing, by not knowing what I was doing, by not having a plan. My second book I learned a little from the first and had more of a plan. It turned out better, but I didn’t have the passion I did with the first book, so I think it suffered.

So here my two tiny books sit on my computer waiting for me to bring them back to life with editing, a lot of editing, but I don’t have the heart.

Now, my third book, that’s going to be great, I know what not to do.

Or, I will just completely start over with my first book, not rewriting it but writing from the beginning, starting over from scratch but with a plan, a real plan, like real writers do.

I will have a book one day, but you can know that that book is going to be good, that I worked hard on it, and I felt it was some of my best writing. That’s what I want to put out into the world.
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