Today is my last day of being 32. I guess I’m okay with that. I mean, what other choice do I have? 33 is still okay. As a matter of fact, I think 33 will be my golden year. I mean, I already got the shoes, the rest is just awaiting the Midas touch.
I’m stepping outside of my comfort zones, my little safety bubble. When you’re uncomfortable, it means you are growing (which is true for both jeans and for the more metaphorical personal growth one experiences with age).
I really feel so very awkward to meet new people but I FINALLY got myself to a local fiction writers meet-up, it was at Starbucks so I mean how could I say no when at least I would get to drink coffee. Of course it was awkward , and yet it was great too. Since there were several others who were there for their “first time” too, it was nice to not be the only new face!
I also launched this IndieGogo crowdfunding for writing campaign. And that’s weird for me too! I don’t really like to ask for help. But sometimes it’s a matter of knowing what you want and going for it even when it feels impossible or when the timing is (financially) just not right, but the will and the creativity and time are all aligning…what would YOU do?
Will I stop writing my novel if I don’t make it? Hell no! I’ll get this thing done, but I feel like this could be really helpful for me to get back into editing gear and really figure out the rest of my plot and strategy for these characters who are speaking to me. They have more to say, I just need to tease it out of them.
Success or failure: why does it have to be one or the other? Why do I have to either succeed OR fail? Can’t I still succeed even if my crowdfunding fails? Or is crowdfunding a failure if you don’t reach your goal? Or is the fact that ANYONE, even if only just one measly (sorry, no offense) person donated, is THAT enough to say “FUCK YEA, I ROCK, SOMEONE BELIEVES IN ME!!!!”????!!!!
Well it’s Day 15, I’m still at 105 buckaroos and I need (yucky math) 600 and some odd dollars to reach my goal…so I feel both happy and fucking miserable. (Head in hands) “Count your blessings” I say to myself in the mirror, even though I look at my face and don’t recognize it.
“Do you ever feel like you look at yourself in the mirror and instead of seeing yourself as you are now, you see yourself as you will look in another 10 years?” I posed this question to a person very close to me who reacted as if he has never even looked at himself in the mirror period, and I admit I felt very narcissistic and vain in admitting my thoughts, and then very weird in the fact that after further explanation this discussion ended unsatisfactorily (oh shit, is that a word? Well autocorrect didn’t call it out, so I’m going with it!).
I feel like maybe that imagined mirror image of myself (yes, I had to explain that it was the way I imagined I would look in 10 years, because no I don’t have some special power or magic mirror that shows my actual older self, wouldn’t that be cruel? Very [what’s his name] Dorian Gray-ish, no?) is some kind of sign of my insanity. I mean, really, apparently no one else has these kinds of horrifying visions.
So next question is this: am I the good crazy or the bad crazy? But yet again, does it have to be one OR the other??? Can’t I be a little of both? (Characters are supposed to be a little of both, right? Likable and hatable? [wow, why do those words look SO wrong?!? “likable and hatable” that CANNOT be right, right???] Well is that okay for a real person too???)
And my birthday is in 3 days, so there’s that. I will be a year older, technically speaking. Come on, help me make 33 the best year yet (It’s like number alliteration, whaaat???)! I have SO much creative energy just waiting to explode all over your face! (Okay, sorry, that was too much and could be misinterpreted in many various ways.) I’ll just pass you a hankie (you know “handkerchief” which is suuuuuch a weird word to type out or even say aloud because, well, who uses those anymore???) to wipe my creative juices off your brow. Ew. Okay, this just keeps getting weirder so I’m just gonna stop there and ask you to disregard this last paragraph as I tend to really lose it near the end of my blog posts (blushing and staring in the mirror to make sure nothing has actually exploded all over my face).