An Acrobatic Extravaganza!

Hunger gnaws at me, tearing my insides apart. I should venture out for a nibble, a bite, a snack. Yet, I remain rooted, lost in a world that is not my own. Stuck between reality and nonexistence, I balance on a dew drop and one wrong move will cause my fall.

In one hand, I juggle the steal balls of work, family, and health. In the other, I juggle the flaming swords of writing, friends and recreation. As balls and swords intermingle in the air I hop between the thin wires of Mom, Writer, Manager, and Myself. All while blind folded. And such is my life, a never ending acrobatic extravaganza!

Sometimes I can manage with extraordinary dexterity. But every now and then, a ball with fall or a flaming sword will cut deep and the whole she-bang will come crashing down around me. I will fall into a pit of unknown doubts and nothing will come from it for a while.

But always I pick up the balls and swords, climb out of the pit and with a deep breath begin again.

Today, I feel on the brink of a fall, my reaction times are slowing and I catch the juggle with sweating finger tips. My shoes are wearing thin from the sharp wires. Should I keep up as I have been, knowing the pit awaits me? Or should I make my way to the edge, and take a break for a little while?

What if....

Today I didn’t get my magic in the morning, and it has really messed with me. I’m less able to cope with the demands of mother hood. It’s incredibly difficult to put words on paper. I’m one big ball of insaneness just ripe to burst at any given moment. Innocent bystanders beware.

It makes me wonder though, how other people react when something they’ve come to rely on doesn’t happen, either by choice or otherwise. How would Jamie react or Josh or Debbie and Iris? What do they rely on? What would happen if Penny couldn’t wear her ankle breakers? Would she lose her pep? Her bubbly personality? What would happen if Debbie didn’t have her Buba any more? Would she be unable to cope with the stress of a new life? What would happen to Jamie if she cut off all her hair? Would she lose her identity? What would happen to Amanda if no one catered to her anymore? Would she fall into a pit of self loathing or find another way to validate her worth? How would they then turn it around and grow to a better person? Would they grow to a better person or would they give up on that path and move to wickedness?

How far would they go to get it back? What would they gladly give up in exchange? Me, I’ll gladly give up sleep in order to get my sun rises. I’ll trudge through the week in a fog of sleep deprivation for those few hours in the morning when it’s just me and the click of the keys, the scratch of a pencil.

Today, I just want to hit the redo button and wake at my normal hour. Instead I’ll take deep breaths until my fingers tingle and work this nightmare of a morning into something I can use in my books. A way to make Jamie, Josh, Sarah, Penny, Rob, Debbie, Amanda, Renee, Iris, Shelia, Jake, Aleme, Matt, Hope, Faith, Lilly, Seth, and Star that much more of a person, that much more believable.

On My Lack of Motivation Today

I should be writing. I should tuck myself away at my desk with my coffee and my book and just knock out the words one page at a time. Yet, I’m not. I’m sitting here, staring out the window, complaining to myself that I can’t seem to get up the motivation to write. I’m wasting my priceless time whining about never having time. What is wrong with me?

The house is still asleep. We had our monthly get together last night; the booze ran freely, so the house will stay asleep for a while yet. My girls (way too young for the grown up juice) are also still asleep. Even the cat is dead to the world as she basks in the early sun. I should take advantage of this rarity. I want to take advantage of this rarity. I’m not taking advantage of this rarity.

My desk is already set up. I don’t need to reorganize my notes or writing to do list. I don’t need to go through a mountain of writing that’s accumulated since my last sprint. My calendar is up to date, I have an empty inbox. The monthly newsletter for my writers group is already sent on its way and the next isn’t due until next month. I’m current on all my social media outlets. So, what’s stopping me from just picking up that pencil and writing?

I’m feeling pretty good today. I can feel the words, the stories, just begging to be released. Already my fingers are fending the feel of paper and graphite. I’m working on my second cup of coffee and the buzz juice has cleared the sleep fog from my head. So I should be able to let the words free. But instead, I’m complaining that I should be writing. How can I get over this hump?

Why is it that my motivation is gone when I have this great opportunity? Why is it I just have to write when things are so crazy I don’t even have time to eat? Would it help if I just put my butt in the chair, picked up the tools of my passion and just did it already? Is that how I’ll get anything done today or will I just stare at the blank page and get all sorts of flustered?

My Biggest Weakness's

As an emerging author, I’ve hit a wall. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, the catch 22 of publishing. I can’t be published without having already been published. Over the past year, I’ve beat my head against said hard place, trying to figure out the best way to obtain those coveted publishing creds. And up until just last night, I’ve come up blank.

After a lot of searching and evaluating, I’ve figured out the things standing in my way. My weakness that make up the hard place and my thought patterns that have solidified the rock.

1)      I cannot (at this time) write short stories.

2)      Entering contest’s require money I do not have

3)      I get distracted from writing too easily

4)      It’s difficult for me to interact with other writers.

5)      My editing skills are not where they should be.

I’m sure there are more but those five are the biggest. Over the coming weeks, I’ll be focusing on improving each one until there is nothing but myself standing in my way.