This is one of those birthday years that ends in a “5” for me. Maybe I should do like my neighbor and stick to the anniversary of the 29th birthday…. I’m trying to get used to the idea now, so that, in June, when it hits for real, I won’t get run over by it. I don’t know what I’m going to do in 5 more years, when the really big one hits…hopefully spend it in Mexico, plastered a little bit by cactus juice. I’m definitely not ready for the calendar to start tipping that direction yet. I could be like my husband, who is looking forward to the potential end of the world in 2012. And I do mean looking forward. He thinks it could be fun. Probably he’s talking about the idea of living in the woods and living it up between now and then.
The 35th birthday is one of those milestone years that gives you a slap in the face when you look around and see how many people there are, now younger than you, in positions of authority and success. I mean, seriously, the Facebook guy is 25! Ten years ago, when I was turning 25, I was driving around the Florida Keys with two dogs in the car, and no ending in sight to a book I’d been trying to write for five years.
I guess that’s why this year has turned, for me, into a taking stock year, a year where I’ve set myself this crazy goal of trying to write so much. I don’t want to let another year slip by – which is what those years do when you slip into neutral, hunker down, and try to avoid looking at the scenery.
So, where am I at…? Well, you should be able to see those little word counters off to the side of the blog, —-> and notice, if you’ve been here before, that there hasn’t been much of a budge lately. I’ve had a lot of little things crop up, and that’s why I’m back to this point of shaking myself a little, to say, “Hey! Wake up, remember you have a lot to do…!” I’ll stop short of smacking myself, because it’s a little self-indulgent (feeling the Simon Cowell vibe), and because it hurts.
I should say that I probably need to go back and rediscover the art of the short story, even though I have not written one of those in over ten years, probably because of the myopia involved in book-length writing. I used to be okay at it…except for that one I submitted to Zoetrope, only to have them say, “but it doesn’t actually seem like a story.” Oops. Well, maybe that was why the title was Dream, people. I thought it was pretty good. I have a good reason to try this year, because there’s a little fellowship out there for parents who write, and have a child under the age of ten. So, here I go…the deadline is April 17th.