Dear Me

January 13, 2009



Dear Me,

Six weeks ago, the beginning symptoms landed on me like an iron skillet thrown across the kitchen by a disgruntled cook: congested fog, pounding headache, feverish chills and a host of others. The pain traveled and multiplied, crippling my liveliness and almost destroying my Christmas cheer. Three rounds of antibiotics later, I'm tons better. I see light at the end of my got flu? (or something like it) tunnel. Yesterday, I walked for a 30-minute cardio --I'm coming around, emerging slowly from the over-a-month ordeal. Four weeks of sinus headaches, then coughing has a way of rendering your physical body fatigued, your mental attitude contrary, your creative spirit unconstructive.

But with the New Year already on my front steps, I'm mustering up the effort to get back on track. No one's happier about my "move forward" decision than my Muse. She's been itchin' to write during my hiatus. Hopping from one foot to another and back again, dancing around like a kid three customers back in line at the Baskin Robbins, blurting out ice cream flavors she thinks she wants. Ah, indecision.

And just like a kid, she wouldn't shut up. "Why can't you write about what happened to Laney(my daughter) the other day?" The other day was two months ago and a bench warrant was involved.

"I can't," I told my Muse. "What if my words embarrass her? Or me?"

"So what!" she squealed. "It's your blog." Her feet paced my office room floor.

"I know," I whined, stretching out my words. Directly after the "Laney incident", I telephoned a friend to describe my day. He asked me similar words, "Are you gonna blog about it?"

"No," I had told him, citing the embarrassment issue. His response sounded exactly like my Muse's, only less irritable, less frustrated at my inability to get dirty during my writing.

Unlike my friend, my Muse didn't drop the subject. Earlier today she bounded into my (home)office, my writing sanctuary, my leave me alone I'm drafting refuge. "I'm tired," she announced, closing the door behind her. Only she didn't look tired. Her eyes sparkled like mine before I rip open the cellophane on a piece of Hershey's dark chocolate.

"Of what?" I said, my fingers still tapping the keyboard. I'm typing words, meaningless ones. Words are words to a writer, and at least my efforts surpass previous attempts posted over the last four weeks. The last thing I need is an interruption.

"You know," she said, hopping up on my desk.

"No, I don't know." I shot a quick sideways glance in time to see her wiggling into position. Oh great, I thought, It's gonna be a long one.

I stopped typing, looked her in the eye, exhaled loudly and said, "Okay. You win."

"You're such a dweeb." Her open palm pushed my forehead. "This is me you're talking to, your Muse...the one behind everything creative." She hopped back down on the blonde hardwood pine and circled the room. "You need a push," she told me.

I swiveled my office chair around to watch her pace.

"...and I'm just the one to shove you." She flashed me a devilish grin and handed me a folded up piece of paper.

I opened it to find the following:

Robin's 2009 Writing Goals

1. Enter six contests during 2009. Four of your submissions must be outside of your normal genre --non-fiction, humor/comedy/satire. Try drama, death, and action/adventure. One of these must be the Writer's Digest Short Story Contest. And one must be a wdc sitewide contest.

2. Attend at least one write-in a month. Nancy and Heather have already expressed interest in these. Get your butt to the Joshua Cup and write with them.

3. Move your 2008 NaNoWriMo project from story arch to rough draft by
         Printing out, editing garbage and tightening up scenes.
         Develop stronger character sketches.
         Use specific scenes as the basis for your fiction short story contest entries.
         Research some of the "facts" of your events.
         Interview real life people to give your novel a realistic feel

5. Submit one article a month to any magazine of your choice.

4. Blog about uncomfortable issues in your life. If you like, open a new journal dedicated to fleshing out these events, occurrences, rants. While I'd like you to do this once a week, I'll settle for three times a month.

"You've got a novel or two to write. You can't fluff it," she said to me when I scrunched up my brow after reading Number Four. "I don't mind you glossing things over," she continued. "But I want you rolling up your sleeves, digging your fingernails into the mud every now and again."

I sat there for a moment, studying her words. My Muse's words. Then, I carefully folded the paper back to its original shape --a small rectangle. I gave her one quick nod of approval before saying, "Count me in."

After all, if my Muse has already bought into my writing dreams, who am I to deny her?

I'll keep you posted of my progress.

Hugs,
Me



Word Count - 853
Written for

SURVEY

Dear Me: Official WDC Contest  (E) What are *your* goals for the new year? Think it over, write a letter and win big prizes! #597313 by Writing.Com Support