I am deeming this the year of everything is right. Or,
maybe, follow my gut, not my panic.
Either way, this year I’m trying to let go of a little bit of
the frantic panic and worry I’ve let myself adopt over the way I spend my days.
When I looked back on my year last year (by essentially taking
the entire month of December off from writing), I realized I wrote and released three books
last year.
I mean, that’s fucking huge.
At times I still question how I found the motivation,
dedication, to do that plus all the
other shit that comes from living life and being a self-employed person: running
the rest of my company (marketing, dinners, meetings, interviews, accounting,
dispensing writing advice…),
seeing family, friends, vacations, hockey games, eating, doing laundry,
construction projects, testing makeup techniques…
The list goes on.
So, when I took stock and realized that, in addition to the
books I did some, or a lot, of all that other stuff too, it finally hit me. I
hate worrying but I work so much better under pressure. But, the thing is, the
pressure doesn’t come from the outside world. It comes from me.
It has to. I’m the chief cook and bottle washer over in the
Writesy Press, LLC offices.
But, somewhere along the course of building this brand, I
let ‘striving with purpose to achieve my goals’ turn into ‘AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH
MUST WRITE NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
Somewhere within the last six years since starting this company,
I gave up the girl who used to just ride the river of life and end up okie
dokie in the end. I went all helicopter parent on my company and gave it zero
room to breathe. And it was exhausting.
I don’t have a boss. Other than me. I don’t have work to do. Other than mine. If
books don’t hit the market nobody suffers.
Other than me.
Then I realize, despite all the times I felt like a slacker,
slug, for sitting on my ass one day or whatever, I still wrote and released three
decent stories. Books I’m proud to say I wrote. And between every word, I
likely penned somewhere around 250k words last year.
Fuck. Yeah!
And I have my eight month projection calendar filled to
capacity with the details of this year’s three book schedule, too.
The difference over doing that last year at this time, I’m
not freaking out about getting it all done.
Maybe it’s because I already did it once so I know how to
schedule things in more manageable chunks. Maybe it’s because I have a renewed
interest in making my dreams come true. Maybe it’s just because I finally
decided that I can trust my process.
Regardless why, I’m planning to spend the year doing exactly
what I know I need to do on that day to further my goals, and not feel panic
because I’m not doing something else/a list a mile long every day.
I’m letting the day guide me and so far, it feels slightly
weird but overall pretty good.
A perfect example of this just happened.
I usually pre-write and schedule my blog posts (I’m writing
this on Thursday). That way, I can write, proof, and edit before the post goes
live.
I didn't even attempt to start working today until a little
after 11AM and then took my lunch break at noon. I spent the morning coloring
my hair, consuming The Weather Channel blizzard coverage, and scrolling Facebook.
Last year, I would have been mad at myself for not adhering
to some strict schedule of work. Like, starting my day at 8AM was vital to my
job. It isn’t. Or that ending my day at 5PM is when I’m supposed to stop. It’s
not.
But there’s a hockey game tonight at 5PM. And no chance of
writing while watching hockey. It’s just too much action and I love that
action. It’s how I unwind.
Time. The biggest enemy of a worrier.
Then, with my hair a hot mess of brassy red, as I was
booting up my laptop to maybe get started, the Meteorologist on The Weather
Channel stationed in downtown Boston said the Bruins game for tonight has been
rescheduled due to the weather.
I laughed. Literally, out loud. Because it worked in some
weird way. Time wasn’t a factor. And the blog post I wanted to write (so I
could do what I said I would this year and be more consistent with posting),
is all but finished at this point. Calm and steady. Flowing words without
expectations.
All morning I did my thing, not stressing out about time
even though I used to tell myself I was wasting a lot. Knowing that the main
activity on my calendar consisted of writing this blog post and editing it so I
could schedule for posting tomorrow (today when you’re reading this).
Zero panic. And I still have time to do some other stuff
that now puts me ahead for starting the first draft of the first book of this
year on Monday. If I want to do it. Still trying to decide.
Will I be able to keep up this Zen approach to my work all
year long? I don’t know, ask me in August when I have the second book of the
year scheduled for release. All I know is I’m going to try.
It feels like success already.
• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.
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