mootmom (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} mootmom) wrote,@ 2003-11-07 08:19:00 |
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Waiting for the dryer load to finish...
... so I can wear my nifty neato new Simon & Garfunkel baseball shirt to work today, so I might as well update my word count from last night.
Day: 06/30
Word count: 13,391/50,000 (I'm back to ending with 1.)
It's coming together. I can sense my story and how to work the parts in. Someone at last night's write-in kindly asked me about my plot this year and I started to tell him, and by the time I was wrapping it up, there wree four other people standing there listening. (!!) And they actually said they thought it sounded neat. Now, whether I am the person able to tell that neat story is another question, but I think it totally pulled me out of my doldrums to have several experienced writer-people standing around me telling me it sounded really cool. Maybe they were just being nice, but... they WERE nice! :-) Now I have to write it, I don't want to let them down. I still feel somewhat inadequate to the task, though, and I hope I don't put so much pressure on myself that I crack and do a stinky job of it after all.
I am also a bit depressed about other things in life right now. On a NaNo-related note, several weeks ago I had to back out of the writing retreat this weekend since Charlie's schedule turned into oatmeal before our very eyes. I gave my seat to another, who is clearly really excited about going. As excited as I was... and now I have to sit and listen to everyone planning, and enthusing, and getting excited about the weekend which I am unable to participate in. It's taken a lot of steam out of me to calmly listen and try to ignore or accept stoically all the planning going on around me; this was something I really, really wanted to do for myself, and with some very good people. I needed it. I craved it. And I don't get to do it. But I have to politely listen to them doing it. It's a grown up thing, I guess: I chose to do the responsible thing and stay home with my kids when my husband had to be away on business, and I chose to be home the one day-and-night out of two weeks when said husband will also be home in between trips. So I've arranged my weekend for others, rather than for myself, and I'm still coming to terms with how often in my life I've done that. I am a giver, a grateful martyr, almost always willing to do what I need to do to bring happiness to others, which in turn is usually satisfying for me.
But it still makes me want to cry sometimes.
And I feel petty even thinking about it, much less talking about it with anyone...
... so I can wear my nifty neato new Simon & Garfunkel baseball shirt to work today, so I might as well update my word count from last night.
Day: 06/30
Word count: 13,391/50,000 (I'm back to ending with 1.)
It's coming together. I can sense my story and how to work the parts in. Someone at last night's write-in kindly asked me about my plot this year and I started to tell him, and by the time I was wrapping it up, there wree four other people standing there listening. (!!) And they actually said they thought it sounded neat. Now, whether I am the person able to tell that neat story is another question, but I think it totally pulled me out of my doldrums to have several experienced writer-people standing around me telling me it sounded really cool. Maybe they were just being nice, but... they WERE nice! :-) Now I have to write it, I don't want to let them down. I still feel somewhat inadequate to the task, though, and I hope I don't put so much pressure on myself that I crack and do a stinky job of it after all.
I am also a bit depressed about other things in life right now. On a NaNo-related note, several weeks ago I had to back out of the writing retreat this weekend since Charlie's schedule turned into oatmeal before our very eyes. I gave my seat to another, who is clearly really excited about going. As excited as I was... and now I have to sit and listen to everyone planning, and enthusing, and getting excited about the weekend which I am unable to participate in. It's taken a lot of steam out of me to calmly listen and try to ignore or accept stoically all the planning going on around me; this was something I really, really wanted to do for myself, and with some very good people. I needed it. I craved it. And I don't get to do it. But I have to politely listen to them doing it. It's a grown up thing, I guess: I chose to do the responsible thing and stay home with my kids when my husband had to be away on business, and I chose to be home the one day-and-night out of two weeks when said husband will also be home in between trips. So I've arranged my weekend for others, rather than for myself, and I'm still coming to terms with how often in my life I've done that. I am a giver, a grateful martyr, almost always willing to do what I need to do to bring happiness to others, which in turn is usually satisfying for me.
But it still makes me want to cry sometimes.
And I feel petty even thinking about it, much less talking about it with anyone...
