Monthly Archives: January 2015
I may be exaggerating a bit. I don’t know that’s it’s a regular flu, never mind a superflu, but I know that we’ve all been sick since roughly 1971. The two-year-old began with a runny nose last Saturday (January 10th, for those keeping records)(and if you’re keeping records, just stop. That’s creepy). Then she had a fever. A low-grade fever, but a fever nonetheless. Then Pamela began feeling gross. I’ve been fighting some sort of cold/sick off since before the holidays so it didn’t surprise me that I began getting it. Hell, even the teenager, who technically resides with her mother but whom I see every day, has been sick since the New Year.
Now I write this between coughs, nose drips, and with a voice that’s barely existent. Pamela stayed home with G all week until Friday, when I was finally too sick to go to work (not to mention that I had little-to-no voice).
Why am I telling you this? Because the work, the writing, stalled. I was doing so great. January 1st through the 7th are all X’d out on the chain calendar. I must’ve felt too tired or drained on the 8th, but I was there for the 9th. After that, blank boxes until this Friday, the 16th, when I had a little perk that night. A perk that left in the wee hours of the morning, when the mucous in my head came alive and tried to take over.
Anyway, I’ve edited for the last three nights.
Why am I telling you this?
Because I feel like I need to answer to somebody. Because no matter what the pro’s sometimes say, the Day Job, the one that pays the bills, sometimes has to come first. Luckily, I enjoy my day job and feel like I’m doing Good Work with it, just as I do with my writing, so it doesn’t feel like a trade-off. But I wanted you to know that as soon as I felt a leeeetle better, I grabbed the ol’ lap desk, grabbed the novel, and did some low-intensity work.
And you should, too.
Lastly, happy birthday to my awesome, wonderful, amazing wife. I often don’t feel like I deserve her. I can be such a fuck-up and asshole at times, but she puts me in my place and everything gets better.
I love you, babe.
So I didn’t do an end-of-the-year review for 2014, or one of those lame-ass Facebook “This was my pretend year” thingamijigs, but I’m here to post my First! Post! Of! 2015! post. Sure, it’s a day later than most bloggers, but if you follow my blog (and thank you if you do. Thank you even more if you actually read it!) you’ll know that I’m not as constant as I’d like to be. I could say that one of my goals for 2015 is to post more, and that would be the truth, but you and I both know that probably won’t happen. We’ll see. In terms of 2014, it began with my one-year-old daughter (who is two now, if you’re new to this site) having an issue and us taking her to the emergency room, and that pretty much dictated the kind of year it was. The best part of 2014 is that G is healthy, happy, and oh-so-wonderful. There were other good things, too, but I’m not looking back, I’m looking forward.
The one thing I do want to look back on is the writing chain I first wrote about back in July, and then again in August. With 2014 packed away, I thought I’d share the chain for last year to see how it shaped up.
As you can see, my worst month was December. I’d finished the second draft of the novel in October, worked on stories and other stuff throughout the latter part of October and through November and was burned out from work and life by December. My wife has a stupid hectic schedule for her job and that means I’m handling the toddler by myself more. As well as shopping, getting work stuff done, and generally just being exhausted. I don’t feel guilty. Well…I feel mildly guilty.
When I added the numbers, I wrote 234 days out 365. That’s more than half the year. And while I’m not thrilled with the 131 days of not writing, I got back on the bike in a big way in 2014 and hope to do even better in 2015.
The other thing I do, besides the chain, is I keep a writing log. I began this back in 2000. February 23rd-24th, 2000 to be exact. It started because I friend of mine (whom I haven’t seen or heard from in over a decade, probably because I said something wrong–which I believe I did) wondered how much money I’m making an hour with my writing.
At that time, it was easy to tell him: $0/hr. But I was working on a novel and I thought maybe, once the big payday came from that novel, I could figure it out and show him, Mister Scientist that he was!
There’ve been breaks in the log, but I started it back up again last year.
So that’s another way I’ve been keeping track. The log stopped being about the money almost immediately. As I’ve pointed out, my writing isn’t–and never has been–about the money. I just like to see what I’ve done, and when. It’s also an amazing way to remember things that were going on in my life.
Anyway, G woke up from her nap right after I uploaded the log’s picture and she’s been sitting on my lap for the last paragraph, and this one, waiting for me to rock her and sing to her. While she’s a bit big and heavy at this point, it’s giving me muscles, so I’m not complaining.
Happy New Year, a day late. I hope it’s a great one.