Dear Me - InkSpot.Com

Getting Acquainted

I spend most of my time playing alpha female for my pack of dogs. Lucy (Boston terrier), Harley (chihuahua). Hershey (miniature dachshund) and Jasper (standard schnauzer) are my entertainment and sometimes muses. Jasper is a puppy mill rescue dog and I'm in the intital stages of writing a series of vignettes of his life since the rescue contrasted with eduaction about rescues and puppy mills. I do actually have other interests than writing and my dogs. I love to scrapbook, watch ice hockey, listen to a variety of music genres and reading. My parents both were avid readers and passed that love on to me. I'll read a cereal box if you set it in front of me!

Dear Me

Dear Me,

Well, 2019 is finally in the rearview and 2020 is filling the windshield ahead.

Last year had its share of shakeups, confusion, and loss. It wasn't all bad, though, there were blessings as well. But this isn't about the past year, it's about the shiny new year with its many possibilities. A new plot, if you will (see what I did there?).

Over the holidays, as folks are want to do, I did a lot of reflecting. Something has been niggling inside me, a feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on. Then, like the proverbial light bulb, I had it! That persistent feeling is that thrill in my belly to write again, to create.

I've barely written since I moved 3 years ago--only a joted poetic musing now and then. I had lost my joy for the written word. As I was reflecting I realized why. I'm surrounded by writers who are successful. I know authors who write novels and are doing well with that. I even have a few friends with their own publishing companies. Like I said, successful. I'd been trying to keep up with the Joneses and I feel short. Unless I, too, had these kinds of successes I was a failure. How could I even call myself a writer? How could I compare? I put way too much pressure on myself to be just like them. Truth is no two writers are alike. I had lost my identity as a writer and therefore my joy for it.

I realized that I can't compare to another writer and there's the rub/ In this, I set myself free. I gave myself permission to enjoy the process again. I'm a hobby writer and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not a novelist and I'm good with that. <y heart lies in poetry and short stories.

What on earth does this have to do with 2020? Why everything of course! I have an entire new year to fill with words.

While I do have some of the usual suspects for goals this year (I refuse to make resolutions, they are just there to be broken)--take care of my health, declutter my little house, lose weight--most of my goals are writing centered.

In the process of getting the vast clutter out of my way., I'll set up a writing space. I need a desk or table for my laptop, notebooks, pens, and reference books. I need a special place to switch into writing mode (although we writers are always in writing mode).

So exactly what are my goals? I'll tell you:

Out of all my short stories, i'm satisfied with only one. The others? Rewrites and edits. The song of my people!

Of course new poetry and short stories will flow from my fingertips. I won't hogtie myself to word counts and deadlines. It would only stress me out to the point of not writing at all. Remember I'm reclaiming the joy!

I plan to enter contests on Writing.Com and beyond. I like prompts to get my creative juices flowing Contests will help me stretch my writing wings further.

Speaking of my online home, I'll keep my premium account. I haven't been active over the past 3 years but Im back. Being active here helps me to be a better writer. Granted the majority of my activity will be from my cell phone (unless I qualify for discounted internet at home). It's not ideal but I will make do.

My big project for the year is to self publish a book of my poetry. I'm researching self publishing and putting together which poems to use. I'll need to purchase an ISBN and have pictures done. It will take work and some brain cells but it's doable. I'm not doing it for money or fame. I just want a piece of me out there, ya know? Whoever I choose to give a copy to or if I make a few dollars, it will just be sauce on the enchilada.

Get ready to play with your creative side this year!

Love,
Me

682 words

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