Posts Tagged ‘hot apple cider’

I spent about five days trying to get myself out of the latest writing jam. Reviewing where my characters had gone and would go, writing notes and outlines, chatting with said characters at all hours, re-reading relevant parts of my last novel. And finally there was only one place to go. So I wrote the section and am picking up speed again. Let’s hope the road blocks get fewer and farther between.

Have you heard that phrase, “Make your job your dream and you’ll never work a day in your life”? Personally, I think that is a statement full of lies, with more potential to discourage discerning hopefuls than to encourage them. See, marriage is a dream but one I know will be full of hard, hard work and occasional hurt. Friendships are worthwhile, but I’ll cry over every one that matters. Kids–oh my, they do make life fulfilling, but they take a crazy amount of work. Why should a dream job be any different?

There are days and weeks when doing my job feels like the sweet dream it was meant to be. But there are many more days. Days of plot line hurdles and writers block and negative reviews. Days of staying up late to meet a deadline and saying no to going out with friends to meet yet another deadline. Days to rewrite blocks of work and sore backs from leaning over a laptop. Days of doing law homework in-between speaking engagements and friends never knowing where in the world you are. Days of scraping together fifty cents for a hot apple cider and of wondering where the money will come. Days of cold calls. Days of facing fears. Days of failure.

See, little does the statement about the dream job know: success would not feel like success without those days. Without the days when I applied for other jobs because the dream just wasn’t panning out. Days when I nearly quit. Days when I chose to stick to the dream because it was worth the hurt.

Next time you think about your dream job and consider all the work that will go into it, remember: it is that hard work which makes the dream sweet. It’s not a dream, it’s not a life, if it’s not worth fighting for.

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My least favorite number is the number 8. You may be thinking: New York has already destroyed what brain cells she had. Why is she blogging about something so random?

No, NY is wonderful. My drive yesterday was mostly uneventful and I made excellent time. I had pretzels and a frappuccino for lunch (random, yes; yummy, yes) and made it to the college (where my sis works) around 2:30. I hugged her, got the key, and realized that five and a half hours of sleep to 7 hours of driving was a bad ratio. Desperate for real food, I found my way to the large Palisades Mall.

That place has many memories. The Bible Quizzing group I love used to go there every year on our way to the Regional Tournament. I have been many more times with my family now that Julie lives so close. But yesterday was the first time I had been there by myself. Driving on my own, moving about NY on my own (added to the Xsardis series closing) has made me realize that I am not fourteen any longer. Big, I know.

I was too tired from editing all day Sunday and driving Monday to work when I got back from the Palisades. That leaves me with approximately 2 and a half days to do what would make one week hectic. But I know God has the timetables worked out. The projects I have left have been going much more speedily than I anticipated.

Unfortunately, I have not been able to connect to the internet my sister’s place. I set out to find somewhere with internet. Stressful! But with help from my mother who knows the area very well after all the visits to Julie, I made it to a Dunkin Donuts. I have been drinking my hot apple cider as I flip through the old books (pulling from both the printed and electronic copies), write notes, make phone calls, use the internet, and format Xsardis. This blog is the least-publishing related thing I have done since I got here.

The number 8… I didn’t forget. 8 is the number of lines between the top of the page and the chapter number. Eight is the number of lines between the chapter number and the opening sentence. Almost as evil is the number 3. 3 lines go between each section. I continually return to the document with my artistic scrolls for the chapter number and section breaks, then adjust size and lines and font type (oh, and the page break is being absolutely evil so I’m having to redo that). And don’t forget that the chapters have to start on an odd number page. Wait a minute, you missed a scroll and you have to make sure everything still fits! Ah.

As boring and time consuming as it sounds, it is actually a pretty good project. I get to put the finishing touches on a manuscript I love. These are the changes that let the rest of the world love it too (since they won’t get distracted by random page orientation and such). I like artistic projects; I just don’t like repetitive artistic projects, where you do the same thing again and again for 38 chapters…

For the fans out there: prepare for a thicker book. I had to shrink the font size because the manuscript was too many pages and it will still be the longest yet. I think you will like it!

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