“Fear of failure must never be a reason not to try something.”   Frederick Smith

Just finish it already.  Really.  It’s fine.  It’s a first draft.  It doesn’t matter how badly it sucks.  Nobody else ever has to see it.  Just finish it already.  Finish it and set it aside.

Let it simmer while you move on to something else.  You can come back to it later, and then you can start the process of re-writing it, editing, shaping, fleshing out and improving.

It does not need to be perfect.  It just needs to be finished.

Stop feeding the monster in the closet and listening to the whispers in the dark.

Let go of the fear.

Finish it.

“The greatest barrier to success is the fear of failure.”   Sven Goran Eriksson

“Always do what you are afraid to do.”   Ralph Waldo Emerson

“A ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”   William Shedd

“You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.”   Mary Manin Morrissey

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”   Dale Carnegie

So just finish it already.



50 Inspiring Quotes to Help You Overcome the Fear of Failure

Overcome the Fear of Success: 6 Ways to Start Thriving


Found Words.

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.” ― Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

In Sept. I mentioned that I had lost somewhere around 2500 words from my manuscript.  I have tried several times since then to re-write that particular scene – the one that went missing. I just couldn’t get it to work, and with every successive attempt I got more discouraged and frustrated.  I had so little success, in fact, that this last weekend I actually decided that I would simply have to scrap the central idea behind that scene and do something entirely different.

I fired up Scrivener, installed a program update, and copied the last chapter folder I had worked on for the quick formatting.  When I renamed the folder and opened it up to delete the duplicated text – it wasn’t duplicated text at all, but somehow, my missing scene!

I don’t know.

I went back to the folder I had copied and read the text there.  It ended right before the missing scene.  I went back to the “new” folder and opened it up.  It didn’t have any of the text from the original folder, but instead had a document containing the previously missing scene.  I hastily copied and pasted it, then backed everything up!  Once that was finished, I read through the whole scene.  It is just like I remembered it, and the element that I have struggling with for the last month and a half works just fine.  I don’t know why I had so much trouble re-creating it!

I did flesh it out a bit, add to the end of it … and all of the discouragement and frustration that had been building up melted away.  Suddenly I am enthusiastic again about this couple, and happy to be immersed in their story instead of wanting to scream at the characters for tormenting me.

Day 13 – tender spots and subconscious bandages

Day 13 … it feels strange typing that Day X in the Title bar.  I have turned things around – writing this in the morning, instead of late in the afternoon or evening as I started.  Day 13 is just starting, after all, so really all I can write about is how day 12 went.

Day 12 went swimmingly.  I had a good long talk with Mr. Aveline last night.  I let all the thoughts that had percolated during the day out.  He listened, reassured me, held me when I cried.

Yeah, I cried … but they were good tears – break-through tears – stress-relief tears.  They were not sad or frustrated or angry tears.  I hate crying.  *laugh*  I am not a pretty crier.  Plus, crying offends the control freak in me, I am pretty sure.  Given all that – I think that sometimes Mr. Aveline is relieved when he gets to hold me through the kind of crying I did last night.  (It means maybe I will stop being such a crazy bitch for a while! *wink*)

Anyhow – the tears were a result of a couple of minor epiphanies.  The first being that tomorrow is Father’s Day.  The second being that – quite literally – the last time I did these specific motions (meditate-stretch-walk regime) was during The Worst Period of my post-twenties adult life.   Both are tender spots on my soul, for different reasons.

Father’s Day – I’m afraid that Mr. Aveline has gotten the short-end of the stick with this one. My father died over the Father’s Day weekend when I was eighteen years old.  It was (and still is) the worst thing that ever happened “to me”.  Every year around this time I go a little crazy.  I get moody and sad and itchy.  It helps when I acknowledge the time of year.  It gives me a framework for the emotions that inevitably surge to the surface and then I know how to cope with them.  When it sneaks up on me, as it did this year – the feelings still come – my subconscious never forgets –  they blindside my conscious self.

The other thing … well, I don’t really want to get into it now … but much like the father’s day thing – I think I was poking at the bruises, picking at the scabs, without thinking about what I was doing and my psyche started wrapping me in emotional batting trying to cushion me and protect the owie spots.  Now that I have realized what is happening I can trim my fingernails, stop picking and use a properly sized bandage instead of mummifying myself.

So – up at 7 am on a Saturday – again – while everyone else is still sleeping and the house is quiet … to stretch and meditate and vomit some words into my blog.  The boys have agreed to go on an outing to the park with me today to take some photo’s for an art project I am working on.  I promised them ice-cream at our favorite shop when we are through.

“Time doesn’t. All that Time does is make it more distant, put more space between you and what happened. It doesn’t heal anything. I don’t know how or what does the healing, but it isn’t Time.” –  Mercedes Lackey

“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.”
― Rumi

Turn off the internet

“There’s a statistical theory that if you gave a million monkeys typewriters and set them to work, they’d eventually come up with the complete works of Shakespeare. Thanks to the Internet, we now know this isn’t true.” – Ian Hart

This morning I woke up feeling like I’d slept on glass and then gargled with razor-blades.  No … I am not sick and it isn’t a cricked back or a sore throat … if the feelings were physical I would have some idea how to address them.  I would know where they came from and know that they will eventually go away.

I suspect that I have simply been spending too much time with my head stuck into the potentially noxious fumes of the internet and I am feeling a bit soul sick.  So, today I am going to find something to act as spiritual vitamin C, stretch my mental wings and spend some extra time in the oxygen tent of my real world.

I guess it is time for a bit of R&R away from my silly keyboard, and this horrible addiction that I have been nurturing.  😉

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air…” –   Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes

Flexing off the rust

“Get an oil-can and oil my joints,” he answered. “They are rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon be all right again. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage.” L. Frank Baum

I stopped writing for such a long time that I feel like the Tin Man – all of my creative joints were rusted nearly to the point of locking.  I am flexing the rust off slowly, but everything still feels stiff and forced and squeaky.  If only I could remember where I left that can of oil!

No Drugs Required

It’s Monday …

And I don’t have anything to say.

My thoughts and prayers to those in Oklahoma.

I am winding up a long day of sitting in front of the computer – ready to get away from fb and twitter and keyboards for a while.  Going home to hug my kids and put this Monday to bed.

“Drugs shouldn’t be used for recreation although they can be, but ultimately the point of psychedelics is to put you in touch with the powers of the universe.” – Ray Manzarek

Now No Drugs are required.  RIP Ray Manzarek

Pet names/Nick names

A nickname is the hardest stone that the devil can throw at a man” William Hazlitt

I just read a posting where a mother said, “I miss my Princess …” in reference to her adult daughter.  It made me uncomfortable.  I am not sure if it is because I know that the daughter is an adult, or if it is the “princess” part or what exactly … but I had a definite reaction to reading it.  Maybe it was the context or lack thereof.

I am reminded of a conversation I had with a friend once upon a time.  When our boys were little, I started calling my husband “Daddy”; not always, and not exclusively, (and not in a sexual manner), but as a way of demonstrating and encouraging the kids to do the same.  Things like, “Son, are we going to have mashed potato’s or french fries tonight?  What do you think Daddy?”  At some point this friend told me, “It is *fine* right now, but please don’t make it a permanent part of your vocabulary.  There is nothing more disturbing than a grown woman calling her partner Daddy for no apparent reason.  My grandparents did that all the way to the end of their lives – called each other “Mother” and “Dad”.  It always squicked me out.”

Am I pro or con pet names?  I think that for me, context is a big part of it.  I know some couples who use pet names for each other – things like baby, babe, honey, sweetheart … and I have no problem with it what-so-ever; and others who use those very same pet names where it bugs me every time.  What is the difference?

One thing is how natural is it?  If it seems forced, or is being used as a way of marking territory or otherwise covering up some insecurity or over-exuberance, then it is not cool.  If it is overly and/or overtly sexual it is also likely to set off the discordant bells.  If it is something that is used casually, easily, and with genuine affection I am likely to not even notice that a pet name or endearment was used.

And as far as kids go?  I am not sure that “little man” and “princess” are the most awesome sorts of nicknames – and perhaps that is part of my deal.  On the other hand, my best friends daughter IS a princess – and has also grown up to be one of the most intelligent, beautiful and generally well rounded women I know – so just using the moniker can’t be all that bad!

We gave our children Big Grown Up sounding names.  It was tough to call little trembling toddlers by such Big names.  As a matter of fact, I was convinced for the first six months of his life that we had mis-named our eldest child – it just didn’t *fit* him!  Now that he is a teenager, of course that is his name, and it suits him perfectly.  As a baby, and little kid though, we came up with a whole host of nick-names and pet names for him.

The youngest child was given his nick-name in utero by his big brother.  The name stuck and I am pretty sure that even well into grade school the family all called him by his nickname 90 percent of the time.  Sometime during grade school he requested that we use his real name, and the family made a concerted effort to switch with relatively good success.

That was years ago now, The nickname is pervasive and persistent though.  Just last week he was sitting at the computer showing one of his friends a video game.  I asked him to take the trash out, and then realized, to my horror, that I had used the nickname … In Front of the School Friend!  sag  Here is the awesome thing – it is natural to use – we use it like his name, without thinking, with no teasing or intention packed into it – it is just a part of who he is to us.  When I mentioned it to him later (to apologize) he told me, “Oh, you know I didn’t even notice, and you know, it’s fine.  It doesn’t bother me at all.”  I guess our responsiveness to his request to use his real name, in combination with growing up some, has made the nickname acceptable again.  🙂

So what about you? Do you use pet names/nicknames?  Are they always acceptable, sometimes, never? … when and why?

“No orator can top the one who can give good nicknames.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes