Thursday, August 18, 2016

Feel the Fear

Forty-five days.

Forty. Five. Days.

October 2nd, 2016.

Forty-five days away.

Excuse me while I have a nervous breakdown.

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...okay.

So. Yes. In forty-five days, I'll be boarding a plane aimed for Europe.

Amsterdam, Italy--north to south--and Paris.

Just over three weeks.

By myself.

People tell me I'm brave.

I don't feel brave.

I feel terrified and crazy and anxious. But not brave.

I had a meltdown the other day. It occurred to me that, once I arrive in Europe, I'll have no idea where anything is. My exact thought process looked a little something like this:

"What if I can't find the grocery store in Florence? I'm gonna starve. I'M GONNA STARVE TO DEATH IN ITALY!"

Right. Starve to death. In Italy.

This is what my brain has become. A constant stream of nonsensical fears and neuroses.

I'll be fine. I know this. I'll be fine and I'll come home stronger, more confident. Changed.

I'm looking forward to it.

You know, in between the meltdowns.

The quote. Yes, it was Pinterest.
I read a quote somewhere the other day. Pinterest, probably. It was something like, "Feel the fear and do it anyway."

Well, that's what I'm doing. Each step of the way. From buying that first ticket to booking my hostel in Amsterdam. I'm terrified, but I want this more. I want to see and experience new things. I want to venture out all by myself, to discover new things about myself and the world. I want to claim the independence and confidence that has been just out of reach for most of my adult life.

I want to come home changed. Stronger. Braver.

And, dammit, I want gelato.

And so, in forty-five days, I'll get on that plane.

But that doesn't mean I won't freak out until then.

Forty-five days, guys.

Shit.


Wednesday, June 1, 2016

IWSG: Doing the Thing That Scares You

A couple months ago, I did something. Something big. Something scary. Something I have always wanted to do.

I bought a ticket to Europe.

Not as part of a group tour, or a cruise. A single, solitary, one-way ticket to Amsterdam.

The moment I confirmed the purchase, my stomach fell straight to my toes. What was I doing? Who did I think I was, planning a solo trip thousands of miles away from home? I wasn't that brave!

Here's a secret, though: I AM that brave.

We all are.

Life, I have come to learn, is often choosing to do the thing that scares you. It's not easy, and there are a million reasons NOT to do it, but what's the worst that could happen?

Given, of course, that the thing that scares YOU is not, like, committing murder or jumping off a high-rise. DON'T do those things. They're scary for a reason.

But buying a ticket to Europe? Applying for a job you really want? Asking that cute dude out that you see every day at the coffee shop (probably not for coffee, though)? Yes. Do those things.
Moments after buying my ticket.

Because the worst that could happen is that you fail. You get lost in the streets of Florence. You don't get the job. The cute dude says no. You're still okay.

This applies to writing, as well. A book idea that scares you might turn out to be the best thing you've ever written. Joining a writing group could earn you some new friends (and writer friends are the best) and maybe some solid advice. And self-publishing the book babies you've put your heart and soul into for years...

Okay. That last one is super scary, no matter how much optimism I sprinkle over it.

But, just like that ticket to Amsterdam, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do the thing that scares me. Because what's a life spent sitting on the sidelines while others chase their dreams?

What scares YOU (writing-wise or not)?

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Writing Lobsters

Let's face it. This writing thing is hard work. Hard, lonely, crazy-making work. You can go it alone, spend every day staring at your computer screen, banging out word after word, steeping in your own stink while subsisting on coffee and chocolate.

OR you could do all these things in the company of someone else. What's better than sharing body odor and snacks. Misery loves company, right?

By our very nature, writers aren't usually fans of people. If given the choice, most of us would never leave the house. We'd be like that guy in Finding Forrester, that gets groceries delivered to his house and everything. (Now that I mention it, that DOES sound kind of nice...)

But that would be the WRONG choice.

In the video below, author Jenna Moreci talks about why Writer Buddies are necessary (Note: If you've never watched a Jenna Moreci video, two important things: She is AWESOME, and she swears. A. LOT).


Jenna makes some excellent points. Who else is going to understand when you've been stuck on the same chapter for DAYS and you just want to set your book on fire? Who's going to give you a chocolate bar and a "Suck it up, buttercup," speech when you're thinking about throwing in the towel and taking up Alpaca farming instead?

Not "regular" people, that's for sure.

I am lucky enough to have an amazing group of writers around me. For about four years now, I've been a member of the fabulous foursome, Pigasus Pen. When the group began, we were all fledgling fiction writers, giving this thing our best go. Now, two of us are querying agents, and two of us have decided to self-publish. We've come a long way, baby.

Before I joined this group, I was floundering. I'd rewritten the same book at least a dozen times and I was spinning my wheels so hard I'd worn them down to nubs. With the help of these amazing ladies, I have come so far. I firmly believe that if I hadn't stumbled upon a "looking for a writing group?" post on the NaNoWriMo forum, I would still be staring at that same manuscript. Or, worse, I would have given up on writing altogether.

In addition to my Pigasus ladies, I have a strong and supportive community of writers with the Capital City Writers Association. Between the workshops and conferences and spur of the moment write-ins I've had with CCWA members, I feel more invigorated and prepared to take on the world of publishing than ever before. The resources and knowledge this group possesses are absolutely priceless.

So, yes. You COULD stay at home and fester in your own stinky, stubborn stench. Or you could get out there and mingle. Meet some like-minded folks and form a bond. Find someone with your brand of crazy and WRITE ALL THE WORDS!

Go on...mingle.

Oh, and if you're wondering about that title, it's based on the Phoebe Bouffay lobster theory. Only, instead of old lobsters wandering around the tank, holding claws, picture two bedraggled writers in their leggings and sweatshirts, sharing a bag of M&Ms. It's a real thing, I swear! Just ask Christina.