A New Year, an Old Goal

Back in July Writer's Digest (my hooker of choice) offered a special on a couple e-books. One of which was a book that offered a different writing prompt for every day of a full calendar year.  I wanted to start immediately, but seeing as how the book began on January 1st I thought I'd wait until that time to begin.  Especially since the prompts grew more difficult with each passing day.

Like most things I say "I'll remember this for later." I very nearly forgot. It wasn't until Writer's Digest sent me another dirty tease about that book which reminded me of it's existence on my computer.  So, if all of my other resolutions fail I wish for this one to at least go.  I think I can write everyday and post it on here.  (Can't I?)

The first prompt of Year of Writing Prompts (by Brian A Klems and Zachary Petit) is very fitting for the first of January.

"January 1. Your Resolutions. What are your New Year's resoltuions? Take one and create a fictional story surrounding it."

Like countless thousands, I have made at least one resolution.  Though being the lazy overachiever I am I have made a list of 6 different things I would like to accomplish in the new year. Whether I actually achieve them is an entirely different story.  One of my favorite quotes is from the movie Forest Gump which perfectly sums up my feelings about resolutions and a new year.  The scene is of Forest,Captain Dan, and the two hookery girls in a bar watching the ball drop in time square.  One of them with big doughy eyes watches and says in a whisper "I love new years. Everybody gets a second chance." And if I am given a second chance I'm going to at least mildly attempt it with gusto.
My Resolutions:
1 - Finish my book.
2 - Get in shape.  I'm 58 lbs overweight.
3 - Read at least 12 books.
4 - Get spiritually settled.
5 - Start a family.
6 - Pay off my credit cards.
Derek and Moira stood nervously in the exam room.  Despite having told her numerous times to sit Moira had refused.  So instead he wrapped his wife in his embrace.  He pressed his cheek to hers and hum a tune of his own creation.  It was one of the things she loved most about him.  The gentle melody soothed her nerves and she could focus on more important things like fertility and being pregnant. 
This was round number four in their battle with her failing uterus.  In one of there attempts she thought she had a knock out but it came in with a sucker punch and knocked all the wind from her gut.  The two had been devastated and spent nearly a year recuperating.
"Do you think she's taking so long because it's good news?" she asked.  She kept her eyes shut and focused on her and him, blocking the rest of the world out.  In her mind she and he stood in the vast expanse of the galaxy among stars and moons.
Derek stopped humming and hugged her tighter.
"It will be what it will be." he said.
Luckily her eyes were shut, and him not looking cause he would have been offended at her eye roll.  It was the best he coud offer at such a time.  He was just as clueless as her and she knew that.
They had prepared in the car before they dare enter the office.  And prior to that they had spent all night talking it through.  The final conclusion then was if this didn't work they would have to adopt.  Derek had made such a beautiful altruistic case for it.
"There are so many other kids in this world desperate for a family.  Why would we deny them a loving home?"
She had hated him for his sense of logic. Even a tiny bit jealous.  She had always assumed he felt the same as her when it came to biological or not. How could they be close to one that wasn't made up of the two of them? It was an absolutely selfish thought.  She knew that.  But with all her knowledge she couldn't change the pressing fear and guilt weighing in her chest.
Please, God, she prayed for the billionth time.
With a click of the door the doctor swooped into the exam room.  He instinctively looked at the table before looking around the door.
"Good afternoon," he said.
The two stepped from the other's embrace and stood, only inches apart, with their hands clasped together. Derek like the gentleman that he was offered his hand to the doctor. The white coat clad physician took it and gave it a firm shake.  Already his confidence and cool demeanor had Moira hopeful.  Of the times before she had known, before they had spoken a word, the crushing answer. 
"So we got back the test and I have some bad news and some good news."
Moira's heart froze in her chest.   Derek tightened his grip around her hand.  They could do this, it said.
"You are definitely pregnant," he said then looked down.
"You know what, Dr. Stewart, You can stop there.  Unless the bad news is that it would somehow harm my wife I don't think we should know. At this point, no matter how the baby is we will love it all the more.  Because it's ours."
Moira looked at her husband, studying his square features and stubbled complexion. 
"Okay." The doctor said.
Derek met his wife's gaze and smiled.
"Because it's ours," she said.

Unusually Complimentary

There has been a strange turn of events these past few days, my husband has shown interest in my desire to be a writer.  I know! I am just as shocked as you.  Don’t get me wrong, he is … “supportive” to a degree.  He’s just a realist when it comes to dreams.  If he cannot see a hard path, he is not taking it.  Does that make sense?  Well, anyway, since I told him my plans to document our trip to London on the cheap and possibly write a book he is on-board.  He even called me on Friday and started pouring compliments over me; my body was in shock.  It is not accustomed to such gushing, but I’m not one to turn it down.

My husband told me that he thinks I would make a good travel writer because I can tell a story and I am humorous.  Which, that sentence in itself shows my humor, because the man has never thought that I’m out-right funny prior to last Friday or at least expressed any similar sentiment.  It has not been until the past few years, hanging around our friends, that he sees I can be a downright riot.  If he and I are talking I can’t crack a joke and make him laugh.  He only finds me entertaining when I say or do something stupid and he can point it out.  And like the true attention whore that I am, I play right into it, developing a whole “persona” to go along with my flustered awareness.  We just have different styles of humor with only a portion of overlap.  The most ridiculous scenarios easily amuse me.  To be a little more precise: give me a cat video any day and I will laugh so hard I will cry.  He will not.

I don’t mean to discourage him or his compliments in any way.  He is an amazing man and honest.  That’s why I always go to him for an opinion.  He will not sugar coat it.  If I wasn’t good in a play or in what I’m writing he will tell me.  Which is a double edged sword, for him and me.  The fact of the matter is that if he says I’m good at something he truly means it, and with that I am energized.  So,  during our trip I’m going to be extra-observant and take copious notes, and when I get back I can write a book proposal.

London is Right Around the Corner

My husband's and my trip to London is only 21 days away and I cannot wait. My mind has already started whirling with what we will do there, will it be as fun as it was last time, and how will we afford it. We bought our tickets back when my husband's business was doing better than it is now and were in a more financially stable situation. At this point in time... not so much. But, we can't get a refund for our tickets... they're already bought and paid for so we might as well just enjoy the trip.

Our plan is to try and do London on the cheap. We've already accepted it'll be a lot of "fast food" like Burger King, which happens to be across the street from our hotel, and a lot of just walking around neighborhoods "site seeing." Sounds pathetic, but I imagine that's where a lot of the fun will happen. In all of our trips it's the stuff we've done off the beaten path where our stories have sprouted from. For instance, last year we went to a chalk mine that billed itself to be very historical. We toured these twisting and turning tunnels by this tiny old man I was certain would get us lost in the dark or kill us. At one point he took our gas lamps away from us and left us in complete silence, beneath a carving that was supposed to be a druid sacrificial alter (which it was not, by the way). Then he walked back to us talking slowly. I was reminded of Sméagol in the Hobbit.

This go around there is only one thing I have to-have to do and that is go to Oxford. I would particularly like to do it on my birthday. My main purpose is to visit the grave of C. S. Lewis, my idol and the man who inspired me to be a writer. Other than that... I'm basically just along for the ride.

Reflection

So, here I stand poised on the precipice of a new year. Looking back at 2013 there was no particular milestone in my wishful career choices (aka writing, aka becoming an author) but the major things of note are: getting married to the man I’ve spent the last ten years of my life with; and going to a place I have dreamed of going to since I was a kid, London. Besides these major changes, my life was relatively stagnant for the majority of the year. These things didn’t even occur until November. So… At least I’m ending the year on a high note. Oh, and the other thing that was a major and wanted change was I finally broke my husband down, after years of discussion, to where he wants to adopt. Seriously… that’s big.

As per my usual M.O. I intend to dedicate this upcoming year to getting my book published. I feel optimistic about it because I’ve spent a lot of time mulling it around in my brain trying to make sure all the plot points and stories line up. I tricked my husband (can you tell I like saying that) into listening to the first chapter and give me any critiques he may have. It was truly helpful and brought about a different perspective. So I will make the necessary changes and move on to the rest of the story. Now if only I could get him to read the rest of it. But that’s more complicated than actually finishing-finishing the thing.

This Christmas my husband (there it is again!) got me a gift that I feel embodies this coming year. It is a watch. Now, it may seem like an ordinary object but for me it holds a lot of meaning, because sewn into the leather band is a tiny compass. For me it seems to say: it’s time to reach my destination. I’ve pussy-footed and dicked around when it comes to my novel long enough but it is at the point that it needs to be done.

So this years goals:
1 – Finish my novel
2 – Get an agent
3 – Lose 50 lbs.
4 – begin the adoption process.

By this time next year I’m hoping that things will be very different and that I myself will be unrecognizable.