Finishing

I can't believe I haven't posted in a week, but at least I know I have been working. My current novel revision is one fleshed out scene away from being complete. And it's fun, and exciting, and I'm relishing the thought of sending it off to beta readers for a good swift bashing.

I'm also grinning at the thought of working on my mermaid novel again, now that this task is almost complete. And I have a play I am desperate to turn into a full-length. And my veggie books are calling me longingly, like sirens.

The piano, too, feels neglected, as do my watercolors. Can I tend to it all? Probably not, but it's nice to be called to, nice to know I have a TON of things to do once this project is finished. So, as with last week, along with three hours of scheduled Zumba fitness today, I have a bunch of other possibilities. The chance to finish a revision is at the top of the list, too.

What feelings does finishing conjure up for you? For me, it's a deep sigh--and perhaps a drink--before beginning on another exciting project. It's a sense of a job well done, a task no longer on my list of things to do. A closure, rather like the last performance of a play's run, the final meeting of class before we all go home, the final entry of grades for the semester.

It's one of my favorite feelings in the world, though it comes with a sense of loss.

What about you? What have you finished lately? How did it make you feel? I'll read through your entries once my scene is complete. In the meantime, happy writing/painting/coloring/singing/playing/doing/FINISHING!!!

Progress

I am still sitting in my hotel room as I write this, so some things in my life are not progressing.

However, for the things within my control, I'm doing pretty well. And I am not alone.

My daughter, famed socialite that she is, already has about a dozen friends at her new school. She climbs in the car at the end of the day with a new Georgia accent, too, slipping out of it only after several hours with us (and it is SOOO cute!).

My son has progressed from "needs work"--a kind way to say he's acting like a complete brat at school--to "Good"--a kind way of saying he is working harder and isn't quite so annoying. Even better, he's waking up with a smile and looking forward to school. They both checked out their first library books at school yesterday, and I had to pry these books out of their hands to get them to do anything this morning. Definite progress.

My husband has progressed a great deal over the last month, too, from not enjoying his job a whole lot to LOVING his (new) job. He comes home with a smile on his face every day, and our interactions with the community so far have made him pretty much decide he's the luckiest person on the face of the planet.

And even though I am not out of the hotel room yet, and we overheated the microwave cooking dinner a few nights ago (manicotti tastes almost as good when it isn't quite warm), I am still writing. No, that's not right. I'm finally writing again. Over the last three days I have edited through 180 pages of my novel, and now I'm perhaps 6 chapters from finishing the new version entirely. After not writing on any novel since before Thanksgiving, I am quivering with happiness to be doing what I love most.

Can you feel it? Can you feel the quivering? It's called progress.

One Day at a Time

As you can probably see from my calendar to the right, my NaNoWriMo effort has not been perfect so far. Some days it feels like I can barely get out 600 words, especially between all the other stuff going on in my life.

But I am actually meeting my goal: to write every day. Even if it means my eyes are crossing and I go to bed later than I would like, I write. I'm making it a habit, and I'm making time for it no matter what.

It's also helping me in other ways, especially in relieving stress. In the last few days I've had all sorts of things going on, some bad, some good--but all stressful.

For one thing, I had to rush my son in to the emergency room Sunday night. He couldn't breathe very well, and it turns out he has allergy-induced asthma. By the time he saw a doctor (which was actually pretty quick--way to go, ER!) his lungs were audibly squeaking. Now he is doing much better, and I know that the coughs he'd been having over the past year were actually less severe asthma attacks (nothing like guilt to add to my stress level). For a few years, at least, he will need to keep an inhaler handy, although one doctor said he could eventually grow out of it.

Better--though still stressful--news is that my husband, just this morning, signed on to be the president of a college down South. And that means we're MOVING... by JANUARY! Wow! Fantastic news, but for the next two months I'll be in a maelstrom of activity, packing, planning, and moving--and smiling, of course!

And in the meantime, while my kids and my classes are turning me in all sorts of directions, I'll also be writing. Every day. Without fail. No matter what.

At least something in my life needs to be predictable.

Progress... and Stagnation

I've revised more than two chapters of my novel today... so I've been working hard. It's been a tough novel since I first wrote it right after I earned my doctorate, oh, those many years ago, and I've revised in nearly 20 times over since then.

I am now at a break-through point, though. The novel finally feels like it's working. Now I'm at about the 24,000-word level on the revision, with about 60,000 more to go to complete it (of course, then I'll have another revision to go, at least). It's tough, sloggy sort of work, and I keep finding I have to go back through a chapter more than once to make sure I've changed ALL of the verbs (verb tense is my one weakness, so I have to ensure no stupid shifts occur). Slowly but surely, though, I am getting it done. I'll work on it some more this evening, after I've put the kids to bed.

Ah, progress...

On the other hand, just trying to put a novel progress on my blog page has proven to be irritating in the extreme. I follow the directions, think I've done it exactly, but all I earn is error message after error message. It should be simple. It is, according to so many of my blogger pals. But for some reason, success escapes me.

Drat! Stagnation.

And why is that so frustrating? I can tell you why. When I'm managing to tackle Mount Everest, why is it that I can't seem to step over a mole hill? That's like being able to master a recipe like duck l'orange but fudge up buttered toast. And since I hate wasting time, I'm even more pissed off.

I'm going back to the novel. At least I feel like it's within my grasp.