Goals, Interrupted

It's just after ten on a Monday night. I'd say it's a quiet night, but the neighbors have an over-inflated idea of how much I want to hear their stereo. Other than that, though, it's a good night. My husband's in bed and I have plans to hang out (and maybe write) with my best good pal Mires. I shared some more chapters of my WiP with my writing group, and I've got a clear idea of what I need to write next.

I've got something knocking around the back of my mind, though, and that is that my original goal of having this book finished by September isn't realistic. I had originally hoped to have a finished manuscript by RMFW this year, which I'd hoped to attend, but those goals need to be revisited. It's kind of sucky, but things happen. Life gets going, days slip by, money gets eaten up by rent and groceries, and you sit and wonder what the heck happened.

I'm going to give RMFW a miss this year, unless my some miracle I scrape everything together last-minute, with the goal of saving up for next year. That's a lot more feasible, and it automatically gets rid of the September deadline I set for myself. My new self-set deadline is the end of the year. That I can definitely do--my little meter on Storytoolz currently estimates my finish for late October. I can definitely get this thing finished by December.

If there's anything I'm learning through this goal shift, it's that as an unpublished writer, I have to be flexible. Heck, all writers have to be flexible. Things change, ideas fade, new ideas crop up, life happens, and characters veer off the track they've been set. I have the luxury of changing my deadline at will, and so there's no use moping that I've "missed" said deadline. I can give myself endless extensions as long as I'm still working, and I don't have to feel bad about it. And I am still writing. Sometimes slowly, sometimes in a more meandering fashion, but I'm writing. And that's better than I was doing this time last year.

Goals have to change sometimes, and that's okay.

'Til next time,
J.

It Begins

And with a bang, a crash, and a lightning flash...it's Monday again. The working types are off to another day on the job, and we home-lurkers are either enjoying a morning to ourselves or sleeping in. Or maybe something else--obviously I don't know. But however you're spending your Monday morning, I hope it's treating you well.

It's been a while, hasn't it? But it's a fresh month and the beginning of a promising summer. I've been writing away between reblogging cool pictures on my tumblr, and I'm nearly 30,000 words into my behemoth of a WiP. I've got a few other projects bubbling away on the back burner, but for now, this lovely thing I call From Dust to Ashes holds my heart.

I have a few plans for the impending summer, though for us the routine isn't disrupted much. The husband's schedule stays the same through the heat, and I don't have to worry about keeping any kids entertained. All that's really going to be different is the heat, and that can be handled with the miracle that is central air. So...what's a girl to do?

The answer: write my ass off.

My best good pal Mireyah Wolfe and I did some number crunching, and they made a real pretty sound. We can't make any definite calls yet, but it looks like the two of us might be able to grace the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers conference with our presence this year. We've both set a goal of having, if not finished books, at least finished drafts of our WiPs by the time we fly out (assuming we can go).

According to my word count meter, I'm approximately 19% toward my word goal, with an estimated finish date of November 10th at my current pace. Obviously November comes after September, so starting today I intend to pick up the pace. This is my summer of writing. Between a trip to see my family, a barbecue or two, and whatever other distractions summer brings, I will finish at least the first draft of this book. It's going to happen. I believe in me.

So what are you folks planning for the summer?

'Til next time,
J.