ROUTINE. FOCUS. PREPARATION.

I've been on a mission since the onslaught of 2012, and it hasn't been easy. It's affected all wakes of my life and though I haven't been completely successful, I believe I'm on the right track.

ROUTINE. FOCUS. PREPARATION.

The "Truffle Shuffle"

It started with diet and exercise and trust me, as an inner fat kid who loves on-the-go processed delights, it's definitely been hard. I'm not there yet, but I'm closer and healthier. The key to accomplishing it is planning and routine. It's really hard to eat well when you don't bring your lunch, have a dinner plan or eat a healthy breakfast before you leave the house. Spur of the moment stuff is what makes you get Egg McMuffins, Taco Bell, and vending machine stuff. Preparation and planning is key. Knowing your stuff is key too. Wandering aimlessly down the grocery aisles snatching at boxes that preach health is fruitless. (Haha, get it? Fruitless?) You have to know what you're doing ahead of time or you'll be distracted by labels, cleverly manipulative advertisements and processed garbage that dresses in nutritional sheep's clothing.

So the tie-in to writing now. My witty segue.

Same thing. Routine and preparation. Knowing and having an objective when you sit down at the computer or even start your week. I've struggled with the blog because I've been treating it as I used to treat snacking or eating in general. "Whatevah. I do what I waaaaant."

Well blogging is a job. A task. A successful blogger posts at the same time every week, plus additional times if there is some good, interesting information that needs to be said. The blogs I subscribe to are consistent, relay useful information and aren't focused on the blogger herself. This takes preparation, as it's sometimes difficult to come up with topics that are prevalent. You can't just plop down behind the computer and come up with something at the drop of a hat. It takes maturity.

Writing in general is the same way. Routine is important. Even in the uninspired times, forcing oneself to write a little bit a day and giving oneself a goal is essential in making this a career. It takes the proper environment, the proper discipline and the proper mindset.

You have to take it seriously.

I'm a black belt in kung fu, and when I'm training the most successfully, it's always when I'm working out on a regular basis, in a serious state of mind and ready to sacrifice my happy-go-lucky time in order to accomplish my next degree.

Focus is key, in other words. It's key in good eating habits, exercise routines, networking, working (writing in our case), and success in general.

Many people think, "I must have A now! NOW!"

A can't happen now. A can only happen with a lot of work and dedication. Falling in love at first sight is merely a spur-of-the-moment compatibility between visual attractions. Falling in love for life is the result of years and years of work, suffering, sacrifice, effort and camaraderie. And focus!

I'm not saying that spontaneity is the devil. Spontaneity can be fun, productive and interesting. I'm merely saying that it's most effective to make these goals an integral part of your lifestyle.

Cheers to good health and happy writing!

The Silent Tantrum

Sometimes, it's damned hard to get going.
You roll over and push snooze dozens and dozens of times, unwilling to face the 4:30 AM fog that hangs around your neighborhood. The dog's still asleep, so why not? He has no concept of time anyway, so another day without an early morning walk won't kill him. Once you do get going, even picking out suitable attire is a freaking chore. "Nudist colony," you think to yourself. "I'll have to look into that." Then there's the morning ritual. All that fun, tedious stuff. Then breakfast. Then driving. Oh, man, driving. That sucks. The only thing that could possibly make driving to work fun is the right soundtrack, which depends on the emotion. Skrillex for anger. Hindi pop for happiness. Radiohead for melancholy. Regina Spektor if you're in love. For our blog, I'm thinking "Kill Everyone" by Skrillex is in order. "I want to eat your heart." Then of course, you spend eight long hours drilling away at a hole that might get bigger, but nobody's going to really notice, because the hole isn't important anyway. (Sometimes, work makes me feel like this is all that I do.) Then home. Perhaps grocery shopping, exercising, walking dogs (because you screwed them over in the morning.), laundry, dinner, watching your shows and FINALLY...

...writing.

So writing, which is the one thing that absorbs most of your passion, your brain and your talent gets the crap slot in the day. The exhausted, feeble, distracted part where you can barely keep your freaking eyes open. Yeah, that's when you choose to really get down and dirty with your career choice. The world gets the best of you. The energetic part. The part fueled by green tea and multi-vitamins. The fresh you that comes dancing out of the car twirling around like a Bollywood actress. (I mean, if you start your day happy. Otherwise, if you've listened to Skrillex, you're going to load your shotgun and swerve into the parking lot with a cigar clenched between your teeth.) Either way, good or bad, writing sits patiently on the backburner again.

Perhaps this is why I feel anti-social and hermit-like much of the time. It's because I don't feel I have any time at all to give to my craft. When you tell people you're going to be a published author someday, they get that raised eyebrow look that annoys the crap out of you because they don't understand how serious you are. And yet, you have to give this person, whoever he or she might be, one of the brightest hours of your day because you have to make some damned money.

So the silent tantrum, as I like to call it, is thrown into action. The brooding, dark author shows up and starts to dig him or herself a little cave, throwing claws out into the light if anybody comes close. They don't understand you, nor do they appreciate the severity of your passion. Someday, you'll show them, by jove. Someday soon, hopefully. Someday, after these agents will pick your slush out of their overstuffed emails and succeed in getting you that much coveted publication deal.
Oh, sweet someday.

Until then, the only thing to do is try your damndest to give everything you have (and then some) to this finicky occupation. What choice have you? I've often thought that writers are all insane (myself included) and I think it's large in part because you have to be a special kind of cat to enjoy dwelling in your own cranium that damned much. To make a story out of the voices in your head. Man, it's beautiful stuff.

But the silent tantrum can get us through our days.
At any rate, some advice. Don't give your career the crap slot, like I often do because I'm a procrastinating hack. Give it the best you there is, if possible. If you're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning, then write a bit before work. If noon is you at your shiniest, then write on the lunch hour. If you're a late afternoon creative genius, then get it going afterward. There's no excuse for giving writing, your glorious talent, the worse appointment just because it doesn't complain as much as the other obligations. Screw em. They're expendable!

There's no need for the silent tantrum, where you're grumpy with the world because it won't let you create. You can kick and scream about a lot of things, but don't make writing one of them.

Peace.