Just wanted to give you a quick update about my website. It is coming along. Approved the final template just now. I'm excited about it, yet scared at the same time. I met yesterday and signed papers at the bank to get my secure merchants account. It looks as though things are rolling along. I'm in the process of making CD's, getting articles written, etc. Tomorrow, for my real job, I have to do an interview. Am going to work on several things today.
I've got my classes ready for the most part. I'm still grading papers, but didn't get to weave any yet.
I know this is short, but I have a lot to catch up on today since I had to be gone all day yesterday. Will be out of the office tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully, I'll be able to catch up and move forward with a lot of things. I've simply got to orrrrrr simple stop sleeping. There is that option as well.
Til Tomorrow~

If I were to title this blog, I'd call it the Need of a Writer. Over the holidays, I thought a lot about what a writer needs. I found it somewhat humorous that in Eric Maisel's latest newsletter, he was discussing the same thing-time and quiet time.
As I've grown as a writer, it seems the one thing I need more than anything else is time. I have all the latest gadgets, a webpage, a computer, printer, copier, fax, etc. The one thing I'm missing and need more than anything is time.
Any writer knows when he sits down at the keyboard, he may think he has only spent a short amount of time working when in fact an entire afternoon has flown by. It always amazes me when I sit down to work for only five minutes and look up and it's two hours later. Where does the time go?
Yes, I do have interruptions, other things pulling at my time, which is a distraction in itself. Sometimes, I think of time as a huge troll I wrestle daily. It wanting to throw me off the bridge and me trying to stay on track.
I don't know that I'll ever have enough time to do all I want to do, so I'll keep fighting that troll and maybe one day....
Til Tomorrow.

This is an early morning blog for me. I thought with this being a holiday week, I better get on the ball if I am to stay on schedule.
I talked to my friend and critique partner over the weekend. She told me I wasn't as bad a person as I thought I was. To snap out of it and move on. I am.
The thing the whole incident taught me was how I need to always keep on my toes and how completely destroying my career is only three minutes and 250 words away. I've always known I was human, incredibly imperfect, but sometimes being reminded of that can make one humble. The new business I am starting is one area where humility will be a plus. I will be dealing with people who want to get published. They have hopes, dreams, and aspirations, much like I had when I started. Everybody should be allowed to dream and have the tools available to them to follow that dream.
I will not lie to people. It takes work to be published. Writing is hard work and draining, but if it something a person works, I will be supportive and make the tools available for them to reach their goals.
Good news! The website is coming along. Won't be long until I'll be ready to go public. I'm scared. I keep thinking, what if this doesn't work? What if I am a failure? What if I can't pull this off? I've just got to keep praying that God will send me in the right direction and I'll jig when He wants me to and jog when He wants me to. That's all I'm going on.
Til Tomorrow~

Humorous how I just wrote about being human and that very night went and did something so incredibly human I'm ashamed of myself.
I have always prided myself in being very professional. Well, at the class I taught Wednesday night, I shared a little more personal stuff than I should have. I knew when I crossed the line, but by then it was too late to go back and change things. I felt bad enough, but then I had one of my students point it out.
Since Wednesday, I have reeled that evening over and over in my head. I have made a promise to myself NEVER to do that again. People pay for information, not to hear confessions from my childhood. I think about another week of beating myself up should do the trick. That way I'll remember to keep things professsional.
I guess if there's anoything good outof this mess is I learned a lesson. Don't cross the line. Don't ever get comfortable enough with an audience that you lose focus, don't go teach or speak when you are exhausted, and never show the public your vulnerable side.
I think that's my biggest problem. I always like for people to see that I'm strong, that things are okay, and moving along for me. To show signs of weakness can be a death knoll. Well, that's what happened Wednesday Night. I exposed my vulnerability and I didn't like it. The good thing is that there were only 3 people, but still.... I learned my lesson and I learn lessons well.
I will recover. It's just rough right now.
Til Later~

Let's talk about anxieties or as I like to call them-the 16 deadly fears. Well today, we'll only talk about one, but as the weeks progress, we'll cover all of them. Today, fear of imperfection.
I know this one pretty good. It screams at me each time I sit down to write, get ready for a class, or give a lecture. What if I make a fool of myself and people discover how 'stupid' I really am? That's the big voice.
Over the years, I've learned people are imperfect. Find me a perfect person and we'll discuss what he's hiding.
From the outside, when I was growing up, my family looked perfect. Us kids did what we were told, dad went to work, mom stayed home with us kids, sewed clothes, and baked birthday cakes. We went to church, took in foster kids, and kept our lawn manicured to perfection.
On the inside, there was verbal, physical, and mental abuse with an influence of sexual abuse thrown in for good measure.
My family was faaaaaarrrrr from normal. If Dr. Phil would have looked in, he would call us one of the most 'dysfunctional' families in the country.
I chuckle when I hear people describe other families as 'normal'. That word begs the question, 'what's normal?' There's no such thing as normal as there is no such thing as perfect.
I love people who have flaws. I think often of President Ford and him hitting his head on Air Force One. People made fun of him (forever), but to me it showed his human-ness. He was a real guy. Give me an individual any day who can trip over his own feet, have Freudian slips, get lost in traffic and laugh at himself and I'll show you a well rounded individual.
Get over being perfect because if you think you are, chances are you're high up there on the imperfect scale. We all sleep, eat, and as Jay Leno once said, poop. We're humans. Our flaws make us so darn cute.
Til later~

What does it take to 'create' something new? I'm learning just a bit of creativity. I have lived my life categorizing things. This is useful, that isn't. We hear people say 'one man's trash is another man's treasure'. This fact continues to come home to me, but came in a big way over the weekend.
My daughter and I went shopping. She's an artsy type, makes jewelry, and is in to pottery. Since I discovered the various art and scrapbooking magazines, when we go to the bookstore, I always find one or two I am publications I have to have. This weekend I found four, but one blew me away.
As I was flipping through the pages, my attention was caught by necklaces made by what looked like old credit cards. I frantically looked through the list of supplies and sure enough, old credit cards are what the artists used.
A few pages over, one artist had used discarded AOL CD's to make an altered book.
I griped myself out all the way to my office. Do you know how many AOL CD's I've thrown away over the years? I can't even begin to count the sample and old credit cards I've thrown away. I instructed my family to save everything that came in from now on.
Of course, I realize as a condition of Murphy's Law, now that I am looking for AOL CD's and credit cards, I will receive none of those ever again.
Ah, the price of art discovery.
Til Tomorrow~

What would you like to do that would make you happy? For me, the answer is simple-write. Writing is more than a business, to me it's a way of life. I find if I don't write I become depressed and have a hard time being happy with anything. I love everything about the words, the process, the tools, and the business. When I go to the office supply store, my palms get sweaty as I walk the pen and paper aisle. At the bookstore, I get a headache trying to decide which book(s) to buy because my pocket book dictates I limit my purchases. In all the years I have shopped for books, only once have I gone and not found a book to buy. The library is my second home. I could live among the shelves.
I love the smell of the inside of a newly published book. I love the way a pen or pencil feels in my hand. I love reading the dictionary to discover new words.
I was asked once if I'd ever quit writing. I've had friends who have actually retired from writing. I don't understand that. I can't quit. I have tried. I will be writing up until the day I die and have envisioned myself being a 'scribe' in heaven with my own drafter's type desk, rolls of scrolls, and quill pen. As long as I am able, I will write. Writing is like breathing to me. I could no more stop writing than I could stop breathing. I'll write more tomorrow.
Til Then~

What does it take to be a writer? That's the question I was asked the other day by one of my students. The first thing that popped in my head was dedication.
You have to be dedicated to words, dedicated to the craft, dedicated to improving every day and every time you sit down to write. You have to almost be a writing zealot.
As I thought about this question later in the day, I thought writing could almost become a religion. Many times, writers go against what is the norm. They face mind boggling odds. (Donald Maas once said writers have a 1 in 30,000 chance of ever getting anything published.) They deal with incredible highs and lows, yet every day, day after day, they must return to the same chair, the same words, and produce something fresh and new.
It takes dedication to do that. I'm dedicated to the cause. Are you?
Til Next Time~

In the past when family members have called and asked me what's for supper, I've told them, "I don't know, I'm making it up as I go along."
The past few days, this is how my life has been. Suppers no longer concern me. I just try to make it through the day and go from one thing to another. When I run out of time for one thing, I don't go to bed at night until the job is done. I get up an extra hour earlier and heaven forbid if my mother should call. She's taken to calling at 8:00 A.M. I have caller I.D. and I have been known not to pick up the phone. Lately, I've felt guilty though, so I've succumbed.
I've found I need every hour of my creative day. With that said, I must be off. I'm getting ready for two classes tomorrow and trust me, every bit of it is made up as I go along.
Til later~

What is today? Did I update my blog yesterday? I must have read the date wrong. I thought I saw I was updating on the 6th. That's frightening. I went on and saw I wrote something on the 2nd. That's almost five days ago. Not a good thing, but work has been a little hectic.
As I wrote on the 2nd, I had to teach that night. The next two days, I spent talking and getting quotes from website builders. Man, oh man, the prices are high to get an e-commerce site. I just have to keep thinking of it as an investment. I believe it will be better in the long run to just do this, but man up front it's a big 'ouch'.
Wednesday, I teach my kids. Almost ready for that class. It's my biggest thing as I have 32 students in two classes. They keep me hopping.
Speaking of hopping, I better run. Have clients' manuscripts to look at and a host of other things. I'll write tomorrow.
Til then~

I knew the euphoria of yesterday would pass. :-) Today, I am just overwhelmed. It could be because I didn't sleep last night and when I did wake up, I tried so hard to go back to sleep, it was more like torture than rest. I'm sure this too shall pass.
Tonight, I'm off to teach a creativity class. These types of classes are a two edged sword for me. I love them because it puts me in the creative mood. I hate them because I never have the time to implement the creative ideas I have. There is so much creativity out there, it is truly frightening. I want more time to spend on my own, exploring, creating. I despair at times that it will never happen. What would one do with all the time in the world to do what she wanted to do? I don't see how anyone can become bored with all I have on my schedule.
Speaking of schedule....
Til Tomorrow~

November is here. Only two more months to the year and time to be thinking about next year, its promises and challenges. Today, I have an expectancy. I don't really know why. Nothing has changed from yesterday except that I see the possibilities of my time becoming my own again. It could be because I got up early, exercised, wrote in my journal, and am getting ready to head out for the day. I am looking to accomplish a lot this year. I want to accomplish a lot next.
Tomorrow, I will speaking to a group of writers about creativity. Creatively living your life, being open to new things, and expecting things to happen is how a writer must live life.
I'm off to see what I can find today.
Til Tomorrow~