Geez Louise.  I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.  It’s a ways off, but there’s a teeny little glimmer.  
Moving slowly down the track.
You have to surrender to your mediocrity, and just write. Because it’s hard, really hard, to write even a crappy book. But it’s better to write a book that kind of sucks rather than no book at all, as you wait around to magically become Faulkner. No one is going to write your book for you and you can’t write anybody’s book but your own.

Cheryl Strayed (via maxkirin)

Just bought Wild today! Been meaning to read it forever! (Even before I ran into Reese Witherspoon on the street in Portland when she’d just gotten there to film the movie haha.)

(via yeahwriters)

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The Critic

 Creativity over critique.  Trying to push through today.

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15 minutes.  Let’s see what happens.
Back in the chair. Got some writing to do.  Had the most wonderful interaction with a former student at Starby’s.  He hugged me and said, “I love you.  You were my favorite.”  
I was so touched.  I remember always hassling this kid about his missing homework.  I guess I did some other things too.  
Now some writing.  I have 24 hours to finish this chapter in order to meet my deadline.  I’ve decided not to worry.

Do your soul a favor and read this, the definitive manifesto for handling haters: Anne Lamott on perfectionism, priorities, and how we keep ourselves small with people-pleasing
Imagining myself writing and finishing the next section.  
15 minutes will be a good start.
I kind of like something I read about getting reinforcement from the work itself versus reinforcement from people outside the work. What’s reinforcing about the work right now?  I find it interesting putting the chapter together.  Every time I get somewhere further on, lay a little more down,  I like the way it reads.  What else is reinforcing?  When I work on it, progress is made.  That’s just a plain old fact.  And what else?  Though I’ve thought about stopping it a dozen times, I haven’t stopped.  I’m seeing that part of me wants to do it not because I think I should or because I want people to see me a certain way, but because there’s part of me that wants to tell this story.  Maybe just a small part, but a part that’s in there and that’s persistent and persisting. 
My butt is in the chair.  It’s actually on the sofa.  But I’m getting some stuff done.  Editor checked in on me yesterday.  I was dreading that email, but maybe it’s motivating me to get my act together.  Thank you, Editor.
Setting the timer.  Here I go.