When Y2K was a thing… A universe ago.

In a few hours’ time, it will be 2020. Yikes. (I started this last night – I need to work on my forecast posting – please forgive me!! 😀 )

I can say many things about my life, but boring, at least on a consistency level, it has been not.

I remember 20 years ago; fondly – if for nothing else, because life is better now in so many ways.

The summer fling I had with my ex Christy had run it’s course; we got a good 9 months out of it and I would vow to not date seriously for a while, which became 2 years and change.

With New Years coming up, I wasn’t looking forward to ringing in the new Millennia alone. All my other prospects had most certainly moved on but that’s what happens in your 20s, lots of traffic.

I was working at a short-term substance abuse rehab center as the Program Assistant. When the center opened earlier that year, I was the primary employee as I was the only clerical employee short of the director. I put in 120 hours in the first 3 weeks; putting the center together, from the beds to the filing systems, all the computers, bought silverware (no spoons!) on the company card, changed light-bulbs, wrote reports, greeted visitors, transcribed sessions, you name it, I did it.

By New Years that year, we were on the second director; an odd but sweet older gentleman who warned me that it was imperative that I have fresh water on hand if the Y2K bug shut down the water filtration system at the sewage plant level.

Good call! So I bought a 3 gallon jug of water as he suggested and committed to fill every bathtub I was near with water just in case. I was fairly certain we were going to be fine, but I was amused at the thought and decided to play it safe. But what to do that night?

My mates John Day, Brett Saunders, and Sean Young had a house that they were renting off of 42nd and Vine back then – called it the Neo Temple.

It was a nod to a former flat John Day and I had way on the south side of town called the Temple but we both moved out because it was expensive as hell and as you could imagine, young Damon wasn’t… frugal.

The treatment center paid me monthly and I’ll be damned if I didn’t blow through that cash before the 3rd week and be bumming funds to cover my ass until then. I still don’t know how people put up with me back then but hell I was extremely adorkable back then.

Anyways, the Neo Temple gents were having a small scene and I was naturally game to dump 1999 behind me and start a new century and millennia with them.

Since the big odometer of time was rolling over, the Powers that Be allowed people to buy fireworks so they could properly celebrate the roll over by blowing shit up.

Normally this really isn’t my style but threw my shekles on the counter like everyone else. I had bought some outlandish small pallet sized box of cardboard explosives guaranteed to take my face off while I’m grinning right into the bloom of smoke and blaze. The guys would love it.

So I lugged my jug of water, a family sized case of cheap boom booms, and some food to grill out if memory serves because it was stupidly warm on top of everything else – at least for December. Don’t hold me to the grill out part – but the water and fireworks is important for later in the story.

Don’t worry, no one gets hurt – but it’s a hell of a good time anyways!

At some point, I either begged Christy to join us or we had that whole awkward post break up convo that lead to, “Well I guess I can hang out with you on NYE; everything else sounds lame and yeah.” So she was coming over too. I was nervous, excited, and generally a mess knowing this. Oh young Me; I was so quixotic.

Like typical gamer geeks, we talked about LARP characters we wanted to run, D&D sessions we have been dungeon crawling through, and likely folks we were pining after in real life.

Sean and Pam were freshly together and thick as thieves, Brett was between lovers and swore he was better for it, and John Day was John – I can’t remember if anyone was in his life at the time but someone was likely on his mind.

He is one of the best romantics I had ever met; and the world is fickle for such folks. We had been through some crazy shit together and it was the world that we got to hang out together for NYE. It was so good to see him!

The basement consisted of your basic finish with painted concrete blocks and carpet with a reasonable pad put down, so your feet didn’t freeze when your shoes were off. They had a few couches sprung about the place with an entertainment center against the south wall but for the most part it was an open floor.

Brett pulled the strobe light out of his room and set it in one corner and we danced about, bouncing off the walls to The Prodigy, hitting the low notes with Peter Steele in Typo O Negative, and thrashing about to KMFDM like it was everything. Back then, it kinda was EVERYTHING but that’s okay, it was great.

We got some food, Christy showed up, and naturally I was being my normal weird self. After a bit, we both cooled off but kept our distance. That was cool, we both needed the scene more than we needed each other but eventually small talk finally started up. We stood downstairs, after the music faded out for a bit.

I had a feeling she had already moved on, but I didn’t blame her, I got invested far faster than she and far more serious than she was ready for. I was looking up flats for us to move into, she was looking up raves to check out. We were in two different places in our lives at that point, I needed to let her go.

She wisely rolled out just as the night was coming on. There was an awkward goodbye but I watched her drive off. Was I heartbroken? Yeah. But if you keep holding onto what you can’t have, you will be broken either way. Inside I went.

I hadn’t noticed that everyone else had basically slipped away into the upper living room until she left; kinda felt like an ass but they were cool about it. They knew I needed to see that through. I sheepishly thanked them and got back to partying with them.

We put the music back on, played in the scattered lighting of the strobe light, and played board games upstairs until it was dark enough to start lighting stuff off. We had done some of the lighter stuff I snagged but we could already hear people lighting off theirs. It was soon midnight, we had Celebration to be had!

Without further ado, we started to light off ours. So many pretty colors, great explosions, and we laughed all the way. As the sunlight faded, we lit the night sky up with our own colors.

But like a lot of folks in their early 20s, we were bored … quickly after the fireworks were done. Now what were we going to do? I threw all the shells of the fireworks into one pile in the middle of the street when we were done and got an… idea.

I pulled off all the plastic from the wreckage and left all the cardboard behind. With a little bit of help of lighter fluid, a couple of well-placed fireplace matches, our fireworks were bright again! It was the end of the world so fuck it right? Just then, I looked up and there was a car coming down 42nd Street, their headlights bright.

We freaked out and ran quickly inside. The car pulled up to our fireworks pyre, paused briefly, and drove around it safely.

I sighed deeply in relief. As soon as they passed out of visual range, I ran down to the burning pile and quickly dumped all the jug’s water on the pyre. It put out the fire very quickly, the sulfur and lovely mix of burnt cardboard mixed in the air as I ran back into the house.

We laughed hard, half out of the excitement of the moment, the other half out of the anxiety of the moment. I was going to wait to get the mess out of the street… right when the firetruck was pulling down the street.

I don’t think any of us had moved so little as possible as it pulled up. Our hearts were in our throats; we watched as the firetruck pulled up to the husk of the burnt fireworks. They didn’t run sirens, it was simply the lights, swiveling about, bouncing red and white lights against the houses.

A spotlight was lit and shot down from the top of the truck, sweeping the light wet mess in front of the truck. No one in the house dared to even look at each other, we couldn’t take our eyes off the spectacle we created. A moment passed. Two maybe, like small eternities. They passed, the spotlight turned off, the truck left.

Maybe 10 minutes passed after that and we all found our laughter again. It was a bit shaky, a bit of tears, but found it just the same again. We cleaned up the mess outside, put the music back on, and have another drink. It was 2000 finally, the lights were still on, and we were among friends.

Despite our own hubris, enjoyed some fireworks, and had a great night. I wish Christy stuck around but I knew it was for the better we moved on. Kisses are great at New Years but with the right people is everything. Otherwise it’s just a forced hand. It was in its own night a hard one but a good night for sure.

I didn’t know it at the time but it was a re-beginning and a new start. I picked up LARPing more seriously, started feeling out college, had more adventures but started to really dig into life. I was let go of the treatment center by a hatchet manager but frankly I needed to move on.

It’s what the year really was; letting go of a past that I couldn’t hold onto. A lesson I wouldn’t learn that year proper or many after because I really am not a quitter – its just not in my DNA. But I started to learn that it is necessary when things call for it. Even when it really, really sucks. But that was one of the first nights I really knew it.

Twenty years later, I’m half way across the country, with an amazing wife, and still staying in touch with at least John Day. I have new friends, the same dream, with a great life. It was pretty crazy getting here, with adventures like you wouldn’t believe, a lot of hard moments, but overall, it was really worth it.

This is the first blog of many, ones I’m going to write every Wednesday going forward, until… who knows. Thank you for reading this, and any posts after that, and I hope you enjoy them!

D.

So I think I finally have settled on a blogging goal that is both sensible and achievable. A weekly blog!

If your first thought was, “Well duh you buffoon, you mean the approach many have used for centuries?!” then you are in perfect agreement with me on this – some days, you’d think I thought Occam’s Razor was a Zelda game I hadn’t played yet. ;P

So this is the first post technically and I’m not adverse to writing one offs later but maybe sticking with something that everyone can read on hump day at 8 am Eastern just might do that trick.

Please let me know your thoughts, feelings, emotional outbursts, etc.

Thank you all and welcome to the Wednesday Morning Wail! 😃

D

Ah the 2018 year in review blog.  It was a great, solid year in many ways.

2018 was in a lot of ways a solid year for starting over for me.  I finally stepped away from the raging shit stain that was a the drama hole I was stuck in and emerged with an fiance, who was ready to start a new life with me.  We fought hard to get to where we were, it was a hard strain to do so but we saw our way through it.

A lot of progress happened this year; a lot of positive changes that came about from earnest, hard work.  Liz found herself in a far better position for work, and so did my sister Lily.  Liz and I got out a far a lot more, enjoyed many hours together and year…

Had one amazing, perfect wedding in the woods.  In the middle of April, after weeks upon weeks of rain and shitty snow storms – one bad enough that we spent the weekend without heat or power.  But that lovely day in the perfect weather, the sun filtered through the trees, when we tied the knot – literally – and pledged to spend the rest of our lives together and into the next.  She is truly my True Love and I can’t imagine without her.

We traveled to her family and friends in North Carolina, stayed at an amazing retreat in the mountains in Virginia, and saw my family and friends later that Fall.  It was an insane set of trips but it was lovely to see everyone and get to see our respective families.  It was far more reasonable than to try and get dozens of people to travel to us.

I got back to writing in many ways, especially to write out the memoirs of what happened over the last few years.  It has been an epic adventure with bright and damning parts but one worth it since it brought me to the woman I have felt in my soul for many years now.

I was able to rekindle friendships and grow others; it’s been a hard year to reach out and connect with people.  I’m very grateful to those who have let me back into their lives and let me start again – to rebuild bridges I had lost when being with people who clearly only wanted to isolate me for their own interests.  Thank you again for such kindness.

I finally got off my ass and started to do things I had spoken about doing for years.  Getting better at cooking, working out on a regular basis, and taking better care of myself.  I have a wonderful wife to wake up next to and spend my life with; I want to make sure that the years we have together are just as amazing and wonderful.

At the beginning of the year, I got hired onto a job I had been working at.  Though the position/company is far from one I see myself spending my life in, I met new, wonderful people who I consider friends.  Our team literally stormed Hell together and it’s a bond that can only be forged in such matters.  I am grateful to have met them and work along side them in difficult times.  My life is a better place with them in it.

I’m looking forward to more positive changes in 2019; getting out more, seeing more friends and amazing sites, and traveling again with my lovely spouse.  It’s going to be the Year of the Earth Pig; which gives me hope that it will be a chill year; I could use a chill year and continue my prosperity.  May I continue to be humble and kind in it’s wake.

Thank you again to all who made this year amazing – I am honored and blessed by your kindness and wish the same for you!

Cheers,

D.

A year ago today, I asked the most wonderful woman I have ever met to marry me.

I somehow caught her off guard, I thought I was about as obvious in my planning – we were out walking on a very familiar trail in Ridley Creek State Park, the White Trail to be exact, where a pair of trees are deeply entwined with each other.  It was there that I stopped her and started to read a poem I had written to propose with.

I was nervous as possible, though in my soul I knew her answer already – she felt exactly the same way as me; we are soul mates and were destined to be together.  Sadly my nerves didn’t feel this emotional reality was enough to give me a reprieve – I was nearly shaking i was so nervous.  I made it halfway through the poem before I could look up.

I panicked; she wasn’t moving at all.  Did I miss read her?  Did she not feel this way?  Did she need more time?  A feather’s worth of logic brushed against my flustered self – Dude, she’s taken aback in a good way – she’s breathless; just keep reading.

So I kept reading.  My knee barely made it to the ground, the ring barely out of the sack I hid it in in our hiking gear before she kissed me, teary eyed and nearly laughing with joy.  A thousand positive answers flowed from her, or what felt like that and I nearly rolled down the hill in relief.  She stopped kissing me long enough to give me a clear and firm, “Yes, I will marry you my True Love.”

We were supposed to be married later this year in 2018; we’re not exactly patient people as individuals – together we can be a very direct and certain team in motion.  We don’t even like to wait to do chores, take time out for each other, or go adventuring.  Getting married?  It was everything we could do not to just go straight to the court house in our leather jackets and be done with it.  In our hearts, we were already wed, it was really just a matter of paperwork in our minds.

Not to mention, I dunno, our families and friends to consider.  We’re deeply unconventional people but even we understand the cultural and social value of being wed – people wanted to celebrate our legally bound selves to one another and our families were certainly going to want to meet our new respective spouses.  So some kind of planning or consideration would be quite thoughtful to our loved ones.

We settled on being married on April 13th; which naturally landed on a Friday.  Intentional?  Quite.  It was quite auspicious to Liz and memorable enough that there was no possible way either of us would forget it.  We chose to have the ceremony in the very park we loved and got engaged in – but chose to do it closer in on the White Trail so the few people attending didn’t have to hike over an hour to our site.

We kept it to our friend Robert, with her work mate turned friend Kevin and my sister in life Lily as our witnesses.  Everyone could fit into one car and the set up would be light enough that we could light hike to a good location without too much of an issue.  Despite weeks and weeks of endless rain, we found the one weekend without, held our ceremony, and tied the knot.  Quite literally.  😉

We chose to celebrate our union by traveling to her family on Memorial Day weekend and mine on Labor Day weekend.  By design and consideration, it was a brilliant plan – it’s execution was a bit taxing on both jaunts but we got to meet many family members, each other’s friends, and our respective “places” in our birth places.  Every step of both journeys were wonderful, even the stressful moments.

I never thought I would feel such… acceptance, happiness, and relentless love and support from anyone, perhaps ever.  It is truly True Love; the cheesiest of cheese romances, the one where many people groan and want to chuck popcorn at the screen when you see it.  And the most beautiful baffling part is… It’s real.

I don’t worry one of us is going to wake up with a different mindset or want a different life.  I don’t worry about whether or not she’s satisfied, still desires me, or even craves my presence and touch.  It’s a deep confidence I haven’t felt ever – on levels I didn’t think were possible.  It’s never wavered, never paused, never dropped.  Our love is my favorite song, on repeat, forever – and I will never tire of it.

Thank you to everyone who has been supportive, thoughtful, and always willing to put up with the cheesy dorks who are stupidly in love with each other.  You are appreciated in your appreciation and kindness you have given us.  You make an already sweet and wonderful life that much more delightful and wondrous.

Happy Engagement Day my Queen, my Vixen, my True Love, my Liz.

All my Love,

D.

You can’t make everybody happy; and please don’t die trying.  Really.

This is a hard reality I run into all the time.  I’m inherently a people pleaser, or at least I attempt to be.  In great earnest, I will dive straight into someone else’s world, help them with their problems, be the person I think they need, and try to make the sun shine if possible for them.  It’s noble, selfless, and frankly very detrimental.

Maybe it was all the comic books I read as a kid, maybe it was getting bullied one too many times – I hate seeing when someone is struggling or is left out.  I used to throw  hella crazy parties, invite so many people the email string would look like I was reciting Deuteronomy, and do my best to keep everyone having a great time when they went on.  It would be exhaustive and straining but I loved seeing everyone happy.  It’s not an attention thing, it’s not a pride thing, I really just want to see people happy.  It’s a part of who I am as a person.

I am in the process of preparing to return to Nebraska to see as many people as possible and for many to meet my wife, Liz.  In the process of setting up the events, I noticed a friend of mine wasn’t invited and realized I wasn’t friends with them on Facebook.  Oh shit!  I sent an apologizing but excited email, asking to be friends!

Two day later, I discovered that they not only declined me, but set it so I couldn’t ask again.  Well.  That’s.  Fuck.

Like any raging social maven, I immediately started to dissect my interactions and why they blocked my requests.  Political conflicts?  They were friends with my other friends.  Social conflicts?  I hadn’t remember having issues with them but maybe I did and didn’t notice; my head was up my own ass for quite some time.  I thought up five difference reasons, rationalized through them, even thought about asking their partner if they knew what the fuck I had done.

I finally just accepted that short of hunting them down and asking; I’m likely never going to get an answer.  It’s not the first time and it is sure as sunshine won’t be the last.  I’m not perfect and never will be, despite my continuous efforts to improve.  I’m not pizza, I never will be.  I can only be Damon, good or bad.  I had to remind myself again (and likely many times again in the future) – You can’t make everybody happy – you aren’t pizza.

Ain’t nobody pizza but pizza.  And truth be told, not even pizza makes everybody happy.  Happiness is an internal outcome; it starts and ends there – you can’t force someone to be happy.  But more importantly – you shouldn’t try to force someone into being happy or being happy with you.  You might be a strong factor in a person or people being happy but it’s ultimately up to them whether they will be happy.  Again with the whole, “be a good friend first” sort of approach.

Another fact I drove home is that not everyone is going to like me; it’s a tenuous goal if I can pull it off and just as fleeting.  I’ve learned the hard way that you stretch yourself really thin and in the end, either break or snap in the process.  Even if everyone else you are helping is happy and you aren’t, everybody is not happy – you count too.  Being selfless doesn’t mean you don’t have needs, just that you are putting others before your needs.  They are still there regardless.

So what can be done?  It comes down to being realistic and honest with yourself and others – make promises you can keep, be honest when you can’t, and communicate.  Nothing crazy or outlandish; just be honest and be clear.  If you are with people who can’t appreciate this or don’t extend the same courtesy back; don’t lose your head over it. Their problems are not your circus, not your monkeys, to steal a Polish axiom.  Get on with the life you have and work towards the one you want.

If you have made it this far into the blog; thank you – from the bottom of my heart.  If I have done less than ideal things and made you frustrated with me at some point – truly, please let me know so I can hopefully do something about it.  I believe in constructive solutions and healthy communication if at all possible.  And if you are in Nebraska, I hope I get to see you Labor Day weekend.

Cheers,

D.

 

“Been traveling in packs that I can’t carry anymore
Been waiting for somebody else to carry me
There’s nothing else there for me at my door
All the people I know aren’t who they used to be

And if I try to change my life one more day
There would be nobody else to save
And I can’t change into a person I don’t wanna be, so
Oh, it’s Saturday night, yeah”

– Say Amen (Saturday Night), ‘Panic! At The Disco’

Something tells me that Brendon Urie and I could split a bottle of something fierce and have a few tales to commiserate over together. Soft hearts and electric souls indeed.

I’m done blaming myself for plans that didn’t pan out with friends; if all that came from moving to Philly was finding my True Love, it was more than worth it. I have found happiness with my family and a few good friends I have made out here; the time to dwell on the past has past. My new life with my lovely bride is more than I could have ever asked for.

In a frank moment of sheer unexpected reflection; Liz shared with me a journal entry she found while looking for paper (to write me a love letter no less). I had jotted into a random notebook back in 2007 after I separated from my 1st wife, Little Jen. I clung to the hope that things would work out with my former mate Caz; despite her needing to work things out with her present husband at the time, Kyle. I was broken, desperate, and husk of a dreamer.

I wanted so badly to travel back to that man, to let him know that things would pan out after a very intense series of events, that would temper him into a better man. I can see him in my mind’s eye, sitting in the Major Oil dining room, a burger half finished, attempting to purge his heart and mind of such strife. A stage in my life had come to a close and I urned for some kind of continuation thereof, and briefly dreamt it could be been with someone it couldn’t.

I wouldn’t get that continuation for 10 years but they were necessary years. I still needed to grow on many levels, recover from leaving LJ, and finding my own way in the world. As far as I am concerned, they were years that I used to pay for the right to be with my True Love, as I sought to help others find their contentment and happiness until I found my own. I will not lament about the past, I’ve done that enough for quite some time. 😉

Especially since the future I have now is so brilliant and rewarding. I’ve never felt so loved, desired, or understood in my whole life with any previous partner or lover. Hands down. Though, living in Philly has been… challenging. The work culture here is needlessly pretentious and is in favor of the employer than the employee. Without extensive networking efforts, finding a good job is next to impossible. It’s disheartening and enervating. I don’t desire to live in a city that is … so full of itself. It’s simply unimpressive.

We’re putting our heads together and figuring out the next step in our lives – this isn’t something that can be maintained for the long term. If we stay, we will move out West where the trees are more plentiful and the culture more sensible. For now we scrape by, eat our well prepared food, do our yoga, and tend to the pets and plants as we thrive in our happiness. It’s a great start for a new grand adventure that makes me keeping on. 🙂

Love,

Damon.

My cousin Andira had inquired with her spouse, Lacey, how women were attracted to men at all since the mere idea baffled her.  I only know about this because the exchange was posted on Facebook and it sparked an interesting internal inquiry inside my own head.  As a pansexual individual, I have a natural attraction to well, potentially any form of human configuration and identity so I had an answer for her.  While contemplating it further, I did my best to discern how to describe all the persuasions of folks I have been drawn to over the years that I have had met and interacted with.

Now two points of clarification and disclosure: this is a blog regarding attraction, not some torrid recall of any proclivities so neither worry about such or expect such a case.  Second, this is my interpretation of attraction – in no way should this be perceived as some sort of authoritative or definitive description of genders and sexual orientations – merely my own perceptions and experiences.  If you read any of my work before, I will rattle this saber about as frequently as possible simply because I want to avoid unnecessary and undesired conflict.  I have no intentions of persuading or convincing… Anyone.  😉

It’s always a bit amusing to me to hear someone’s reaction when they hear I’m pansexual or … attracted to men.  “But wait, what?!  You date women!”  I have dated both, just frequently dated women more specifically out of circumstance and general preference.  It was always a troubling frustration when I lived in Nebraska on and off because to many, I instead had to be Gay because “I didn’t act straight.”  Well dearie me, I had to be one or the other, right?  What a stark dichotomy; not a lot of wiggle room there.  One of the reasons I moved to the East Coast, got tired of the hard boxes people would often try to put me into to figure out how to check me off appropriately.

For me (get used to this lead in), guys remind me of … Trees.  Seriously.  Run with me on this, it will get more clear.  You end up looking for strong, firm, rooted types.  Someone you can bury your face into and wrap your arms around – take in that earthy smell and feel their rugged exterior and feel the life inside of them.  They come in different shapes and sizes, some have deep, strong branches with a lot of leaves, others have a nice lean to them, filled with character and willowy, dangly stems.  Sometimes you want to build a home with them, sometimes just spend an afternoon resting against them, but just the same, you enjoy that level of stoic, living, character and how firm and vibrant they can be.

As for women, for me they remind me of a loving a sunrise, a wild, natural experience.  Like a random field of heather you get to lie down in and smell the sweetness that surrounds you.  Or how your heart races as you bounce, slam, and careen down a white water rapid; like a flower blooms inside of you when look at them.  Loving a woman is like being able to look at a mountain in the spring, life green and vibrant, and being able to have it want you back.  Like being able to hold a flower’s hand, feel the soft, sweet texture of her glorious countenance.  She is strong, she is wild, and fierce when she needs to be.  When she wants to be.  She is nature, she is air, she is fire, she is earth, and she is water.

For me, that is also how androgynous and gender neutral are – they are elements; transcendent of exact definition beyond binary distinction – they are pure being. They are defined by themselves and themselves alone – whether they are outwardly resistant to anything resembling labeling or quietly defiant; they stand resolute in their in their unique, singular presence.  In this right, they harness the stoic presence of a male with the force of nature presence of a woman while still transcending both genders entirely.  I would find myself being drawn to such puissance somewhere between outward admiration and a unique desire to bask intimately in such beauty beyond the lines we draw for ourselves. To know a person for their own uniqueness far beyond any prescribed expectations.

For me, a transgendered soul and the gender fluid persuasion are the sweet and great changelings of the human race.  They are not defined by the corporal shell in which they first came into this world in but seek what they are inside.  This takes a strong sense of self, a presence of being to push past what is pressed upon them to be, and to be who they are truly.  This state of being is the paragon of nature itself; to let the seed of self break through the earth and become what they are meant to be.  There is a unique beauty unto this transition itself, a shimmer as one’s seaming is either altered temporarily or permanently.  To love wholly and completely regardless of physical state.

In all fairness, my interest is naturally influenced by two key facts – my affinity with nature and that, ironically, my disinterest in procreation.  But frankly in this modern age, I feel it’s moot as child rearing and raising has limited bearing as a necessity, though it has it’s influences in attraction to another sole.  Attempting to locate an individual with similar interests as mine while not desire children themselves has been challenging.  A vibrant journey nonetheless went underway to find her and I met some exceptionally beautiful and wonderful people along the way.  I chose to finish with this paragraph instead of leading with it because it’s a happy ending and I wanted you to read the journey first.  😉

 

I’M WRITING FOR REALZ.  I MEAN IT THIS TIME.  REALLY.  😉

I think every year I have the same goal about writing – I need to write.  Or I tell myself I need to do so and I start to do so; sometimes it sticks and becomes something. Or sometimes I get distracted with life and it gets side tracked.  This time around, I have a feeling it’s going to finally stand a chance to really be something I genuine focus on.

What will help as well is one realistic, simplistic SMART goal – write 270 days this year.  Not every day.  No word count.  No project requirement.  No strict deadline.  Floating dates that I can move around to fit my schedule but can be measured.  It’s time sensitive with a long scope so I’m not feeling pressured which will affect my writing.  And most certainly, not oppressive enough that I feel like I **have to** write.

Few things can kill creativity like critical, arbitrary restrictions.  I’m not on contract.  There are no expectations for me right now – it’s about getting in the habit of writing.  I’ll stress about that down the road once I have the unique privilege of chasing a date.  Right now, it’s about making time for writing and writing what comes to me – it can be a blog, working on one of my novels, a poem, a back story – doesn’t matter, I just have to write.

I have plenty of the above to keep me busy and on the front – this isn’t an issue; I have plenty of topics to cover, plot bunnies to chase, and a novel to redraft.  I feel comfortable and confident that this goal can be met and succeeded – which is important.  I’ve learned the hard way if you set the bar too high and not pull it off, you get discouraged and it’s easier to write off (heh) when you think about doing it again.  It’s best to layer goals.

So here I go.  I will at some point, migrate my old blog posts to this site but they won’t count towards my goals.  One step at a time right?  Let’s do this!!

D.

Nathaniel Tower is a writer with a family and a full-time job — and his position on whether or not a daily writing habit is crucial has become more nuanced over time.

via Should You Write Every Day? A Close Look at the Oldest Piece of Writing Advice — Discover