Where These Roads Lead

I finally did it--I took a dozen boxes of junk and got rid of it all. Okay, that's not entirely true. There are a couple of boxes left, but it is so much better than it was before. I feel relieved. I didn't need any of that stuff, and I know that it will still have another life with someone else that will enjoy it, whether it was clothes, books or anything else I seemed to be holding on to for no reason.

With me the celebration is usually very short, and this little victory was no different. I got rid of all my stuff for a specific reason--I wanted to leave where I am and end up somewhere else. As soon as the boxes were out of the garage, I clearly expected a miracle to occur. There was nothing. I'm not surprised. I constantly look for answers and never find them. I only look and find the avenues that I know aren't right for me. At least that's a start.

This week hasn't been kind to any plans I may have formulated. I lost a freelance job I thought was going to be long term, I didn't win a grant I thought I had a real shot at winning and all I'm left with are daydreams. I have reached a point where it seems the only answer is to just walk out the door. There's no thinking or planning involved. I just go. People do it all the time and seem to find a way to create something out of nothing. I usually end up with more of nothing, if that's possible.

Photo: Pixabay.com

There's a deep pit of desire inside that just wants to take me everywhere. Even my usual plans aren't satisfying dreams anymore. I don't just want a city at my disposal, I want the whole world now. I want to see every inch of it. I think this case of wanderlust is so bad because summer is right around the corner. I tell myself every year this will be my golden summer, the summer of all summers, the one I never forget. I always end up in the same places, doing the same things and not enjoying any of it.

The cure? Become a travel writer. I have plenty of experience writing travel copy for amazing destinations around the world--though all of this work is anonymously floating around the Internet and has no hint of the unique voice I could have given it had I really experienced it.

My rational side has already thoroughly vetted this career option. Most travel writers cannot become travel writers without a long history of, you know... traveling. The current market for travel writers has also become so overcrowded that even if you get a gig or two, it only pays a fraction of what it used to, which is never enough to cover the travel expenses you accumulate trying to get inspired in the first place.

I may have cleaned out the garage, but there's still a lot of thoughts and fears cluttering my mind. Progress is still appearing as a tiny dash on a long, winding road.

It's Still Just a Marathon

Life, writing, careers... all are marathons, not sprints. Some days, you just have to be reminded of it. 

I've grabbed NaNoWriMo by the horns this year, and I'm not letting go. I'm on my game. I'm still in the running to win by the end of the month. As of right now, this is what my stats look like:

Don't worry: I plan to meet my daily goal by the end of the night. I don't know what this strange feeling I have is, but I think it my be a little bit of pride. I'm actually going to do it. Let's be honest though--the novel is total crap, but it is nothing that can't be fixed with months of toiling over every word choice.

And about my Vine project... yeah, that stopped. I really wanted to get a post for every day of the month, but it was becoming much more of a distraction then I meant it to be. Instead of working on my novel, I found myself banging my head against my desk trying to come up with a more compelling 6-second video. Next year if I chronicle my progress, it will need to be a full-on video blog so that I can just ramble, upload it and be done.

The real roller coaster in the last week has been on the job scene. A little over a week ago I was invited to join a writing team that could actually put me back in the category of earning a normal wage. So I did everything I was asked: I attended a webinar, I requested to be added to the team and I waited patiently to get started. Turns out, through whatever reason I have yet to understand, I was actually denied from working with this specific team/client two years ago--without writing a single word for them. Through this particular company, sometimes you'll get a client who doesn't like your writing voice or some other (usually arbitrary) reason, they'll keep you from writing for them again.

I normally take this all in stride, but this situation is ridiculous. They promised me work that would let me, you know, actually pay my bills. But they didn't realize they made me lose an hour of my time to attend a webinar for work I would never have access to. Yes, it could be just a simple mistake, but I'm not going to beg for work. I have a little bit of dignity left.

The good, the bad--it all means nothing. I just have to keep going, keep trying. There's a lot that's trying to stop me, and I'm not going to put up with it anymore. My time is now. I'll get to the place I need to be. Very soon the opportunity I need will come. Until then I'll be here, writing away.

It's Back

You know that drive I thought I lost? The motivation? Well, it's back--and with a vengeance. I haven't felt a creative high like this in a long while.

The only problem I seem to have now is what to focus on with all this energy. Today, I have been bouncing off one project and on to another. I started with poetry this morning, then I went over to the novel this afternoon. And because I'm all of a sudden interested in being involved in journalism again, I'm researching various topics of interest and trying to find the best way to break back into it all. I got a full plate, that's for sure.

What will become of me in the next couple of months? Something other than status quo, I'm hoping.  I'll give myself a tentative deadline of January 1, 2012 to surprise myself, show a little confidence--get something worthwhile done. I'm determined to have a career I can be proud of.

Finally! A realization

I now know what has been bothering this last month. On the surface, it looked like it was just a bunch of problems at work that built up to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. Now I realize that it goes much deeper than that. I don't really know what I want anymore. I thought freelancing would be a great, flexible job that I could do for money until all of my creative endeavors panned out. But there's a key word I was missing in that thought: job. A job is not a career by any means, and a career is what I want. I just don't know how to get there. I have so many interests, but not enough education or talent for any of them. And I'm tired of just accepting jobs to get money.

This morning was a real wake up call for that. I got an email saying a job had paid me. Most of the jobs I work have a 30 day wait for payment. I looked at it and realized I had just waited 30 days to get paid $1. A single dollar, not worth anything on its own. And while I know that this job was just for a little extra cash, it still seems like a slap in the face. I have a college degree and I'm willing to work for a dollar? It's like I can't see myself having any more talent or success than that. Maybe with my bad attitude and social ineptitude, I don't really deserve anything better than that.

As a distraction, I wrote another page for Script Frenzy. 12 down, 88 to go. I'm still on track with it, but I don't know if I'll see the script through to the end of the month. With work, I probably won't have the time. And I won't consider making time. It seems like a dumb idea now.

I guess I'll take the easy way out and blame this whole bad mood on one of the movies I watched today. It was called Jake's Women, starring Alan Alda. It's about a writer who can't let go of storylines in his head and kind of checks out of life because of it... it's exactly what I described in a post the other day about the writer's curse. The movie spoke to me, but, as always, it was about a successful writer, so in many ways I still had trouble relating with the character. And he had actual real-life relationships to check out of. Me? Not so much.

Don't get me wrong though. I started out writing this post distraught and thoroughly giving up. Now that I see it written out, I have a better understanding of just what I need to do in order to turn out something good in this life... and it's gonna take more than I think I can handle, but why not try? I hate failure, but at it's something I'm used to. :)

Just for starters, this is the funniest video I've found recently...



Funny, right?

So, I bought my cap and gown today... first off, ugly. But second: SCARY! What am I going to do with the rest of my life now that everyone thinks I'm actually capable of making decisions on my own? What? Are you CRAZY?? Nope, I don't wanna grow up. Unless it means a five bedroom house, husband yummy enough to model, and an unrestricted (and successful) writing career. Short of that, I'm going to continue to live inside my head... it's really pretty there.

I'm itching to get out of the Midwest. I can't stand being here anymore. This is the one time that I wish I has finished school in four years. It's true that I only have a semester left, but I don't think it will be an enjoyable experience. The last four years haven't really been. Well, like everything, college has had its moments. I'm just stuck at the place in my life where everyone seems to be going to somewhere, or they are completely content to stay where they are. I'm in the middle of the spectrum. I want to get out of here, but I don't know how. I thought about teaching English in Japan. I thought about moving to LA just to see if anything could happen. I've even contemplated doing the same, only in Chicago or New York. There are no real promises of a great career anywhere I go. I just want to be able to find a job--any job--when I get to a new place.

I have high hopes and magnificent dreams, but they are far away from my grasp at the moment. It's because I want an easy break into whatever I decide I want to do. And that's not going to happen unless you know someone who knows someone. And I don't think I do.

But I'm trying to make steady progress. I submitted two flash fictions to various journals yesterday. I'm not hopeful, but at least I'll get a few more rejection letters to add to the pile. Then if I get enough, maybe I'll stop screwing around and finish a novel. Doubtful though--I'm easily distracted by pretty faces.