Deciding to Stay on the Pot

We've all heard the old adage that in times of stagnant indecision, we must choose between dumping our load of ca-ca where we sit or getting up from the porcelain throne and quit taking up time and space.

Recently, I was teetering on the brink of standing up and moving on from my hopes for a writing career. Everything in my little corner of the world seemed to be conspiring to once again postpone my plans for a literary life. It seemed much more feasible to just keep the writing filed away under its old label of "hobby," and get back to living a "normal" life that better suited the needs of friends and family. Same old sell-out, but, at my advancing age, it felt frighteningly irreversible and permanent -- like I was preparing for and participating in the death of my lifelong dream.

So I put away my work in progress, a novel with a planned completion deadline for the end of October, and instead began collecting paint samples and fabric swatches for remodeling projects. Weeding flower beds took precedence over revisions. It had been days since I picked up a book to read - the pain of a completed work was just too painful in light of my own miscarried creation. Is this sounding like the ultimate pity-party or what?

But then the phone rang.

And a stranger's voice informed me that I was a finalist in the Golden Pen contest, that my entry would be forwarded to the final judges -- a senior editor at Harlequin books and a well-known agent. I would have two weeks to revise and get the hard copies back in their hands. Two weeks. And then she offered me the possibility that should either of the final judges like my work, they could request to see the complete manuscript. Complete -- as in totally finished by the end of October.

Deja vu.

And just like that I am back on the pot. Taking the proverbial dump? Perhaps. After all, I have spent over half a century consuming a lifetime of experiences and people and emotions, digesting their essences into the creative guano that provides nutrition for my fertile imagination. And can I break through the accumulation of doubt into the freedom of free-fall writing? I hope so. The revisions have to be in the mail by Monday, October 17. The entire manuscript must at least be in draft form by October 31.

Did I mention the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart competition and its deadline of completed and polished manuscript in their hands by December 1? No?

Then on November 1, I begin the daily grind of participating in the Novel in a Month event which aims for completing a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. After what I have to do in October, it should be a piece of cake. Or not. Either way, the journey will be recorded here for prosperity. And hopefully, by the time December rolls around I will have the basis of my next novel, and a new deadline looming.

Because regularity is a wonderful thing -- as is a dream resurrected.