A guest post today, from Allison of Life in a Pink Fibro. (Her blog is my absolute fave.)
Allison is a wonderful writer, whose blog is full of gems of advice for bloggers and writers. If you are not following her, you should be.
I know what I should be doing. I know how it goes. Little by little. Bit by bit. One step at a time.
Only I’m not doing it. Writing, that is.
I have this plan. I’ll write 500 words a day. That’s not too much to deal with, right? Baby steps. I do the 500, I write it down. I see my results on the page. Just like deciding I’ll do a little bit of exercise every day. Write it down. See my results on the page.
I’ll avoid the bad stuff. The ‘naughty’ stuff. Like Twitter and procrastinating and Pascall’s Chocolate Eclairs (I swear these are writing fuel… no, really). But I don’t. Instead, I sit down and think ‘I’ll just have a tiny bit, surely that won’t hurt’. Before I know it, the whole afternoon is gone. And so I give up for the day. “I’ll start tomorrow,” I swear to myself. Sound familiar?
Four weeks ago, I started a weight loss challenge. I was full of good intentions. I would exercise at least three times a week. I would stop drinking chocolate milkshakes with my boys. I would find a way to cook their dinner without eating enough for three people during the process. But then life got in the way. The boys got sick, work got busy, we started renovating a house. I didn’t take stress into consideration when I was planning my virtuous, lolly-free existence. I haven’t finished the damn challenge. Kind of essential for success.
As for writing… let’s just say that the novel I started writing 18 months ago remains stuck. In the middle. The sagging, stodgy middle. I didn’t take life (or blogging) into consideration when I was planning my best-selling-author future. I haven’t finished the damn book. Kind of essential for success.
There are so many areas in life where our intentions don’t quite meet up with our actions. A little slip in the time/space continuum and, whoops, there goes the plan. Budgeting is one area. Raising tidy, quiet children appears to be another (or maybe that’s just me).
But all we can do is to keep trying. Start every day afresh. Start thinking that this will be the day that’s different. What’s the alternative? To give up? Quitters don’t write novels. Quitters don’t get fit and healthy.
I’m no quitter. I’m starting again. Tomorrow.
I hope you enjoyed this guest post? Make sure you pop over to the The Pink Fibro and say g'day!