You know how to finish it. Say it. Out loud. (Name that movie! LOLOLOL)
Anyway, I digress. This post is going to be a lot of digression, so I hope you're in the mood for some stream of thought writing from el@n@. That's my new name. My sister is certifiably insane. And she did some tweeting yesterday on her name (which has an i, now replaced with an !). Since I don't have an i, she said I could be el@n@. So here I am.
Anyway, Eric over at Working My Muse gave me this Lemonade Stand blog award. Thanks! I'm supposed to nominate 10 people, and send the award along. I just nominated 15 people for the Premio Dardos award, and I can't even think of 10 more. If I do, I'll post them soon, promise.
So on to lemonade. When life gets you down, what do you do? I try to surround myself with good people. Play a few games (guitar hero) and just forget about whatever is bothering me. Most of my stress is self-inflicted. Do you do this? This self-inflicted stress-inducing?
Ugh. I just get in the way of myself. I have to constantly step back and remind myself that this whole publishing thing is a journey, not a result. Sometimes I find myself frustrated because I'd like to think I'm a pretty smart person. I've worked hard through some stacked odds to get what I want.
And so this whole publishing thing is sort of hard for me. I'm used to working hard, persevering, and ultimately getting what I want. This is a little different than that.
I've decided I'm going to climb into the sidecar of a motorcycle. Remind myself that it's not the end result I'm striving for (but of course, getting published is still The Goal), but it's also the learning experiences along the way. The writerly people I get to interact with. The new novels I get to read. And write. Sometimes I think all I'm focusing on is the lemons and not the lemonade. Being the driver and not the rider. Achieving The Goal and not enjoying the How.
So a new sidecar goal to go with The Goal: enjoy the ride. I'm imagining myself in one of those sidecars on a motorcycle. I don't have to drive. I don't have to watch the speedometer, the upcoming curves in the road, the weather. I can look for those purple blossoms on trees, seagulls flying, deer in the meadow, whatever. I can enjoy the ride.
I've got my helmet on, ready for the rejections and critiques. I've got the goggles strapped in place--hopefully they'll help me see clearly who to listen to, which agents to research and query, and what to write. I've got the leather chaps, waiting to protect me if I happen to crash and burn.
I'm ready to enjoy the ride. Are you?