You Are Worth the Time

Generally speaking, I don't think of myself as an artist. It was never my goal to create great artistic works of fiction. I always wanted to just tell my stories and have people enjoy them. I just want to produce damned good entertainment.

This isn't mutually exclusive from the desire for recognition. I hold a secret yearning for some kind of artistic affirmation from the powers that be: good reviews, a slot on the best seller list, or some respected award. But I don't expect it. I don't ever really expect to do anything but labor in obscurity, quietly doing my job of entertaining. Perhaps someday, I'll be discovered, like Bach or Dickens, years after my death, to have been a transcendent artist and to have written classic works of literature proven by the only test that matters: time.

Hey, we can all dream, right?

This morning, I was woken up too early by my husband's alarm clock. I lost an hour of sleep on a morning when I was already set to get up a full 45 minutes before I had to be getting the little girls up for their first day of school. The little girls, who often dawdle to the point of driving me to insanity, got ready with a good will and are now cuddled up next to me. We have time to sit.

When I put them on the bus, they will be gone for the whole day, arriving home at nearly supper time. And the hours will stretch out before me, hours during which I feel like doing exactly nothing. How odd to plan on wasting a day on this particular day when I am already sensitive to the fleeting, and lasting, nature of time.

There is laundry to do. Pots still to wash. The bathroom is dirty. Perhaps I will do some of those things.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps, on this, the first day of school for so many of our children, we will remember who we are. We are artists--even me.

....and relax....

Image via Wikipedia It's been interesting this month.
I'm still - woefully - behind on every one of my plans - something I'm fairly sure anyone with children at home over the summer can relate to. But I've been doing a lot of nice things that recharge my batteries.
One of them is role playing.
I play in two games where a group of us narrate and add to stories that each of help create. One of us - a 'games master' gives a basic plot line, and the others ask questions, narrate their actions, and more. All of us puts parts of the story forward, though some of it is still based on chance - you have to roll one of various dice, depending on the rules of the system you're playing in. So you still have the chance to screw up and tell a funny, touching, sad, angry or moving story from that. I tend to botch my rolls - A LOT.
It's a great way to remain creative without actually working on a story - much like the sites that allow you to add to chapters of stories, except you do it with friends.
Another form of role play - the more 'traditional' kind, like Dungeons and Dragons, involves using a board and models, but the action of role playing can be the same.
I've always found that being able to play games - create a shared story with others, is incredibly important to me. Not just because I can allow others to help me shape the story, but because, in some ways I won't be judged for what I choose to do. I've been several mages, a TechnoMage, a futuristic soldier-nun, clad in armor, several superheros, a vampire, Werewolf, artist, master singer, thief....I've been any character that I've wanted to be - played with the party or at odds with them - and narrated huge, enjoyable story arcs. I've also learned a lot about story telling.
Between that and reading books, I'm just waiting for the urge to actually write to take me again.
I play in games that can, in some ways, trace their lineage back to roman times - with the 20 sided dice they used to play with.

Now that I've admitted that deep - dark - secret I'm wondering what you do to 'recharge' or build new stories to work with. What's your way of tapping and enticing your muse?

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Time after time....

We're a week and a half into the summer here.


I'm not sure about anyone else, but part of the reason I freelance is so that when we get to the holidays, I can take some downtime with my kids - so that there's no holiday problems with care for them, and so that I'm not spending every minute in work wondering whether I'll need to leave early and find they've caused riots.


It does mean, however, that all of the work I'd planned on doing is being is being sandwiched in between episodes of Hannah Montana and Tom and Jerry. It's a nice life, but it's hard to measure the value of the work I'm snatching in. It also means that I've been pushing back and pushing pack things like theme designs and my fiction writing. I got up on Sunday morning though and decided that I needed to stop procrastinating and actually take control!

So, I've written a post over at Publishhacks about the best, and worst freelance tools, in my opinion, for monitoring and supporting any freelance career.


I'm always expanding and testing them though, so I thought I'd find out what your favs and time sinks are.


(so far, I've got Xobini, RescueTime, WordPress, the Internet (wikipedia), The Internet (RSS), Zoundry Raven - some good, some bad ;)) What do you have, and come on over to PublishHacks, to find out about the tools I've mentioned.

Re-gifting This to You...

“Fight perfectionism by telling yourself that what I wrote today is what I was capable of at this moment.”

–Chip Scanlan

http://www.poynter.org/column.asp?id=52&aid=133922

Yeah, I know, isn't it great? You're welcome. :)

All in the Family

The other day, my 9-year-old son told his dad he wanted to be a writer when he grew up. My husband relayed this to me in the terms of "oh great, another kid who is not going to make any money when he grows up."

Just prior to my son's disclosure, my 13-year-old had mentioned she wants to train horses for a living. And the thing is, (and maybe Heather can correct me), my understanding is that the pay for training horses is not something that makes a living. It is something you do to supplement a living.

While I agree my daughter would be better served in pursuing another career and raising horses on the side, I am not so disillusioned with my son's aspiration to be a writer. He loves to read, and he has a creative mind. He is constantly looking at things in a new way, and he has always found words fascinating.

I remember one time, at a very young age, he asked me what "wife" meant. He was so young he was in a car seat. I was driving, and I went into this long explanation of the roles of husband and wife and marriage. When I finished, he said, "Hmmm. I wonder what they mean by "run for your wife." That's right. He was also young enough that he couldn't pronounce the l in life.

So, after my husband telling me this, I took the very next opportunity to explore this career alternative with my son.

Me: "I heard you want to be a writer."

Him (excitement in his voice and a glimmer in his eyes): "I want to be an author. When I grow up, I am going to be an author."

Me (missing the all-important word change from writer to author): You know, you don't have to wait until you grow up to be a writer. You can start writing now.

Justin: I don't want to be that kind of writer.

Me: What kind of writer do you want to be?

Justin: I want to be an author. I want to sit in libraries and autograph books.

Me: (laughter, lots of uncontrollable laughter).....

Worthy Worth

"Is it worth it?" Jessica asked, a week ago Sunday, at the end of a post on a writing group we both belong to. I'd been wondering that myself, struggling with the idea of what determined worth and career in the writing world. Attempting to decide if I should go back to college and pursue something real and solid. Allowing myself to sink into the not good enough territory.

I hadn't made any resolutions, I'd given up really, participating in my favorite activity, procrastination through web surfing.

"This is my year of hope and courage and forgiveness," fellow MNABC writer, Heather, proclaimed, complete with perfect quotes and inspiring prose.

"This is the year I'll be more of a loser than I already am," I thought to myself in reply, with not even a random inkling of a clue what I wanted to resolve for myself.

So I moved on to Madame Rubies blog. She has had a theme each year for almost as long as I have known her. She's had a year of freedom, a year of contentment, a year of purpose and vision and now she is going to have a year of laughter and possibilities. I just love the sound of that one.

I sank further down into frustration at my own lack of creativity and motivation, and wandered off to check emails, spotting Jessica's post. Jessica who is also a writing mama. Jessica who has two small children. Jessica who is in the wee hours of the night phase that is all one big, hazy blur to me. Jessica who managed to inspire and wake me up with her writing.

I felt what she was saying in the deepest parts of my bones. I connected with it and felt something shift in my brain. And it dawned on me, that I've passed this moment that she is in.

I should have known the day my youngest was talking with her brother, about something at school. She spoke in the most grownup of ways, about this life completely without me. But it took Jessica's moment, so completely raw and inside those long ago (for me) moments, to open my eyes.

To see how blessed I am that I can say to my wild four, "Please don't speak another word to me, for just 5 minutes, I"ll lose the shape of the story in my head." And have them set the timer and understand.

She made me see how lucky I am to be in that place where they are "old" enough, where they go to school and I have hours to DO (keyword here, must do, must do) what I love and have passion for.

She reminded me of the moments when my writing has inspired, moved, motivated or induced belly laughs from another person, by touching me so deeply with her own.

She compelled me to take on worth as my theme, my resolution if you will. Of finding it inside myself.

So, in answer to your question, Jessica, yes, I really do think it is...worth it.



In honor of my theme, I chopped off 14 inches of hair (outdated and out of control hair does not determine self worth). I have pictures and a Hairy Tale on my personal blog if you are inclined to see.