Can It Be Done?

On dewy, overcast days my favorite thing to do is hang out in my bedroom with my space heater on and all my kids curled up sleeping on the bed. The blinds are pulled up to let the soft, filtered light absolutely pour through the large window and my silent cup of coffee sits patiently on my windowsill, waiting for me to take another sip....

There is a wooden fence right outside that soaks up the last bit of rain that washed through the desert during the cold night. Every now and then the sun peaks through the clouds as if it is making sure it hasn't gotten too cold, like a matronly guardian checking up on sleeping children.

It is days like today when all I want to do... is write; work on my novel, finish one more chapter until that moment comes when I can place the final punctuation mark on the final sentence of the final chapter, and whisper "The End," to no one in particular. Yet, I don't.

Instead, I find some excuse not to; the room is getting too dusty, so I reach for the dustpan; the clothes need washing, so I reach for the detergent; the floor needs sweeping, so I reach for the broom; I haven't perfected my hollandaise, so I reach for the whisk; my German Shepherd needs fresh air, so I reach for the leash. Lately, I seem to be reaching for everything but a pen!

Well, I'm done. If I can make time in the day to watch an episode of "Sex and The City" or re-hang a painting on the north wall because the lighting was all wrong on the east one, I can certainly make time to work on my novel for at least one hour a day. And so this blog is going to take a dramatic turn, at least for me. I am going to challenge myself the way I should have a long time ago.... In the past I've said that a true writer is simply someone who loves to write. Wrong.

I would like to add to my definition of what it takes to be a writer: A true writer is someone who takes their writing seriously, who gives themselves deadlines the way a publisher might, and more importantly... someone who finishes what they start.

A book, like a relationship, is something you must work at, through good times and bad, no matter what might have transpired throughout your day, you must make time for it; because really... "the only way out is through."

I am giving myself 365 days to completely finish my novel. Any of the ones I am working on. I will write about my progress and try to make it as interesting as possible for those of you following me (thank you by the way!). If on that 365th day I have not sent my completed "masterpiece" or "complete piece of shit" (depending on your taste), I will not only have failed this challenge, but I will also be forced to take a good, long look at myself and contemplate whether or not I can truly call myself a writer....

Though I am a bit curious, look at the picture above. Doesn't my painting look better over the sofa? It really was lost on the East wall.... But my hollandaise still sucks.