When I first started writing, I thought it would be cool if my story ended up being longer than 100 pages. That was my goal.
Then it turned to publication.
If I could get ONE book published...
Obviously, my goals for publication now are different. I'd share those goals, but I'm working on too many supah-secret projects to share my goals because then I'd have to make your computer explode like Mission Impossible, or my blog, and that just sounds like a lot of cleanup.
(I'm desperately looking for the owner of this picture - if anyone remembers seeing it on a stock photo site, I'd love to hear from you... lol)
I'm going to take a giant step back and talk about short-term goals because mine only work like half the time.
Last week (before I had friends and extra kids and extra stuff all weekend) I banged out 20K on a book I've wanted to write for a long time. I thought - next week I'll finish easy.
But life happened.
No. More than that. My snarky girl is making some really bad decisions, and the book that was fun to write, has turned a bit darker (color me shocked) and it's now emotionally draining. I'm okay with this, but it means that if I want to function for my family at night, when everyone's home, I need to write in smaller chunks than 6-9K a day.
The hardest part for me is to be okay with this. To tell myself - I know you wanted this done by Friday, but considering you have a million other things going on, and errands stacking up, and no milk in the fridge, and your "to mail" pile and stack of bills is still growing, you should reconsider.
This is H.A.R.D. for me. My kids' spring break starts Friday morning, and I know how much writing I get done w/ them around (almost none).
So. I've shifted my goals a bit. I'd like to get a few more scenes slapped into my MS, and save the layering in for when my kids are home, b/c that's something I can do with them.
And now my "goal list" is turning into things that help me feel like I'm still moving forward while also being things I can do with LOTS of interruptions...
Am I an anomaly in that it makes me crazy when I have to shift gears and do something different? Or alter the WAY I'm working on something?
Because I'm telling you, knowing I won't make my goal has sucked some motivation out of me...
Here's a snip of the project I'm working on now, which you can feel free to ignore -
I push to sitting, letting our hands fall apart. “Why would you be more responsible than me?”
“It’s just…” Elias sits up. “I’m the guy, you know?”
“And I’m the girl.” I know what he won’t say. He’s the man, and he should be the one to call the shots. But he’s a good man, so he’ll be calling the shots and making the right decisions for both of us. And in less than a minute, I’m annoyed with him again because it’s archaic and ridiculous.
He licks his lips and stares at the carpet and I know we won’t discuss this any further because it would turn in to an argument, and apparently Elias’s method of avoiding an argument on a subject is to avoid the subject.
I wonder how long that’ll last.
“I don’t want to be away from you, but I think I should go.” Elias stands. “I love you, Clara. So much.”
There’s so much feeling in his voice, and it hits me like it probably should have hit me the first time he said it. Elias means it. For real. He’s not just telling me he loves me because he likes me more than any other girl he’s dated, like I do to him. Elias really does love me. And all I can say back to him, without moving from my spot on the floor, or talking about me being Mormon and him being unsure. Or about how we really could have had sex this afternoon and how I’m not sorry about it, is, “I love you, too.”