I know that I say this every month, but I really can’t
believe how quickly this year has gone by. When you’re younger, they tell you
that the older you get, the faster time goes. Well, it’s totally true. I
shudder to think how quickly my final years are going to pass.
Okay, so that’s a little morbid. While I am a fairly morbid
person, I’m not actively trying to be morbid right now. But it’s a gray
winter’s morning and I’m still feeling sleepy after a night filled with weird
dreams. You’ll have to forgive me if my Poe side peeks through a bit.
November was nice enough, I suppose. Uneventful. I did have
a very good visit from my brother. I showed him some of the city and he got to
meet some of my friends and see some of what I do with my time. We visited the
Sixth Floor Museum and also the Dallas Museum of Art, which is absolutely
fantastic. Admission is free there (there are some paid-for exhibits but there
is no pressure to partake of them). Although we saw quite a bit of beautiful
art, there was still at least one floor we never got to, so I’ll have to go
back.
It was nice to see my brother and I’m glad that he visited.
The rest of November was largely unremarkable. My brother’s visit threw off my
exercise plan, which is no one’s fault but my own. I know myself well enough to
know that I’m unlikely to get back on track in December.
So too is my writing still off-kilter. I started yet another
new romance novel. I KNOW. I’m thoroughly convinced now that I’m
self-sabotaging. I think I don’t want to finish the fourth novel (I currently
have FIVE partial fourth novels) because I’m afraid to move on to the
publishing stage.
It seems clear that it’s time to push myself out of the
nest. The current plan is to start working on publishing in January,
whether the fourth novel is finished or not. I know that it probably seems like
I’m still stalling. The truth is that I work extra hours in December and, if
it’s anything like last year, I’ll be too tired to focus on anything other than
entertaining myself at the end of my workdays. So January it is.
Also, I'd like to point out that soccer season is over (except for the final next weekend, which I will watch even though my team's not in it). It's left me feeling at loose ends. It's a bit pathetic really. Although hope is on the horizon. The Winter Olympics - superior to the Summer Olympics, imho - are less than two months away and of course 2014 includes World Cup. World Cup! It's like a soccer all-you-can-eat buffet!
Anyway, that's November 2013, plus my expectations for the coming months, in a nutshell. That's my life. If you're stopping by to read, why don't you tell me what's been happening in yours?
2 comments:
In the morbid realm, I recently went online and found an actuarial table to tell me how much longer I have to live. The answer was: until age 84. Then I searched around for a countdown calendar, but the one I found only gave it to me in weeks/days/hours/seconds and I wanted something with years. I've felt the need recently to think about how I'm spending my time.
But I find neither your thoughts, nor my inquiry particularly morbid. Because we all die. Hopefully, for both of us, it won't be for a bit, but you never know.
I've been thinking that next year making the writing thing more "official" will be my goal. We shall see what I do with those thoughts. As for you and the publishing, I bought the Poets & Writers Nov/Dec issue because it has to do with self-publishing. You might check it out.
Good luck with your December work. It kind of sounds like my August/September time.
Actually, work hasn't been too bad so far, and it looks like we're iced into the house for the weekend, which should be relaxing. I bet it's going to be a madhouse in there on Monday though.
I wholeheartedly support you making "the writing thing" more official. :)
Thanks for the tip on the magazine.
Post a Comment