From the title, I think it’s pretty obvious where my head has been at lately.
Last night, we turned the clocks back an hour. This is a practice that we call Daylight Savings where I live in the USA, and it’s the practice of advancing our clocks by an hour in the warmer months, so that darkness falls at a later clock time. Growing up, I was always taught “spring forward” meaning setting the clocks forward and “losing” an hour in the springtime, and “fall back” by turning them back an hour in the early autumn months. As a result, there’s one 23-hour day in the late winter or early spring, and one 25-hour day in the autumn.
As it were, the clocks were turned back late last night, early this morning, Sunday, November 7, 2021. Meaning, today technically has 25-hours instead of 24. Originally, this was an idea that Benjamin Franklin proposed in a satirical letter to conserve candles in 1784. Weird, right? Especially, considering that we still do it, even in 2021. Some things have changed in the past 236-year but, not everything, and while I’m not a big history buff, I still think it’s kind of fascinating.
It’s also November, which means… NaNoWriMo for a lot of the writing community.
But not me. At least, not exactly, this year I’m a little anti-NaNo. Usually, I start off great. I hit the ground running, make it to about 6k words, and then I fall off the face of the planet. The pressure and stress of trying to write at least 1,667 words a day, no matter what, is just way too much for me. Some days, my chronically ill body just can’t do it. The pain in my leg is all encompassing, or the dull ache between my eyes is a roar. Some days I have no energy, and no spoons, and no fucks to give and that’s okay too. So, while I did declare a project on the site, and I have been trying to keep up with updating my word count, I’m not really doing NaNo.
I’m doing my own thing instead. I’m on day #89 of my own, personal goal; 100 days of words, in which I challenge myself to simply show up. I make myself take out a notebook, piece of paper, my laptop, or whatever for at least 15-minutes every day, and devote that time to writing. Sometimes, I end up with 3-words. Sometimes, I end up with 3,000 words. Some days, I start my 15-minute timer, and when it goes off I’m done, and some days, I’ll get up, stretch a bit, grab a snack, and then I’m write back at it. I know, it’s a terrible pun but, I had to.
And the crazy thing is, I’m almost done. It’s almost been 100-days, and that was the goal. After November 24th, I can quit if I want to. I’m hoping that I won’t but, the point is, that I can. I’ve challenged myself to simply show up, do what I can, and I call that good enough. Because, I have an awful habit of being too fucking hard on myself. I see fellow authors who can crank out whole novels in 30-days. I see fellow authors who can write, edit, and release at least one book a month, or several books a year, and I’ve never been that kind of writer.
I’m the kind of writer who will get an idea, hit the ground running, and fizzle out like a sparkler.
And I think I’m finally in a stable enough place where I can open up and admit that I am jealous. How can I not be when I see all of these beautiful, talented, and wonderful writers out there, living their dreams? After all, isn’t that how I started out? I saw Angel writing a story for her Score class, and I wanted to do it too. I envied her creativity, and it sparked something in me. But you know what? That’s okay because, someday, I’m hoping to be that kind of author too. I don’t know everyone else’s story, or the journey they’ve had to go through to be able to make their dreams come true, and they don’t know mine. So, rather than sitting here in my jealousy, I just have to keep trying to remind myself that I’ll get there someday. Even if it is 15-minutes at a time, every day for the rest of my life until I can make my dreams come true. All I really know right now, is that if I give up now, I’ll never make it to the finish line.
Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.
-I’ve had that quote on my letter board for almost two years. It’s time I finally stop making excuses and listen to it. I need to stop doubting myself, and start believing in myself.
Blogging has been… really hard lately. I haven’t known what I wanted to say.
I haven’t had much to say. All I really do these days is drive around in my new Jeep, avoid putting away and folding the laundry (finally did it last night after staring at it for 3-weeks) write, read, and as of lately… binge watch Disney +. The last one, I’m entirely blaming my brother Matt for because, if he never would’ve given me his login, I might be a productive person but, I’m glad he did. In the past couple of days, I’ve watched Luca, Coco, and I’ve just started a miniseries called Just Beyond. It’s getting colder here in Illinois, and that means my leg is acting up, and I’m not sleeping well. I’ve had more headache and migraine days than normal, and I don’t know what to do with any of it. Even so, I’m still trying to push through because, I feel like if I don’t, I’ll just fade away.
You know?
I’ll try to write again soon.
-Sky
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