Coming Back

Yesterday I wrote a post about how I was feeling disconnected from myself and feelingĀ  a little paralyzed as a result. So although I’m never one to “go back” to things (choosing instead to always move forward), I realize that something that has helped me a lot in the past was blogging. Aside from the occasional post about writing, I haven’t been blogging very much, and I think I’d like to get back to it.

Blogging is like art journaling. It’s creativity without pressure. It’s feeling free to let my mind do its thing and not worry about what the result might look like to other people. This blog, right here, is my own little sanctuary of whatever-I-want-ness. Because as much as other people have the right to existence, the right to an opinion, the right to make decisions, so do I. And this is where that has always happened, from when I was seventeen years old. That’s right, y’all, this blog is that old.

And today I need a little bit of me again. So, in the words of Samwise, “Well…I’m back.”

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A Day in the Life

Right, so the last few posts I’ve written have been slightly morose and a bit of a downer, so I thought we’d spice it up a little bit. To be fair, it’s been quite an adjustment to this new lifestyle, and I’ve always lived up to my “I’ll be real on this blog” promise, so that’s what’s been happening. But there are less…uh…”will I have food this month” realities to write about, so here we go! A day in the life of an indie author. Or, at least, a day in the life of me. An indie author.

3 am: Wake up in a bit of a stressed sweat, pull the laptop out from under the bed. Check book sales, cry over the three or so fickle Instagram followers that I lost. Other social media. Post, post, post. Have a presence and all that.
3:30 am: Pick up my phone. Bite lower lip. What’s an interesting way of taking a picture of my laptop (open to Scrivener, of course) that I can take? What haven’t I done before? Squint at laptop screen. I mean, there are only so many ways to photograph a laptop. Settle for the usual and hope the People of Instagram find it charming and quirky.
4:00 am: After posting an Instagram photo, write or edit. Like the wind. If the inspiration and productivity dries up, keep going anyway because food is a thing that we need. Stopping is not an option.
6:00 am: Cuddle with husband and cats.
6:30 am: Write some more even if Captain Creativity doesn’t show up. Again, food. I need it.
8:00 am: Take a short nap. Yay sleep.
10:00 am: Breakfast with the Husband. Or, rather, lunch, because I have around 4 hours of work under my belt already.
11:00 am: Get back to work, but not before posting another Instagram photo because social media is basically the Mob in ancient Rome and I have to court it. Look at the photo I took and laugh inwardly at the fact that people think I am actually this put together. No, friends. I am not. And neither is my laptop (though it is a Macbook Pro, and we Instagram peeps all know that counts for a lot, know what I’m sayin’).
Late afternoon: Reading. Yes, because a) I like books, okay? and b) the best writers are good readers. I’m on Goodreads, by the way, if you’d like to connect with me. I’m all for that. Seriously, come find me so we can nerd out about books together. (This also constitutes another Instagram photo).
After late afternoon: More writing and editing. Another photo.
Early evening: Take a break. Cook and eat dinner with my husband, and chill with him. Money or not, we prioritize spending time with each other, because otherwise what is life, even?
After dinner: A lot of social media. An insane amount. Find more people to follow, comment on their posts, and invest in relationships with people I already follow who are cool and deserve support. The world of the Indies is one where you had better freaking have each other’s backs.
Before bed: Maybe write and edit some more, but honestly…mostly feel happy about the five or six Instagram followers I gained, about the cool people I met that day, about the progress I made, about the books I sold, and about the fact that I get to do what I love every day. And most of all, feel happy that I’m trapped by Husband and Cats. Yeah. Mostly that.

Speechless

A world of words inside my soul; how can I explain it? All the words I know can’t come close, all the pretty prose and turns of phrase are useless.

Can you translate the whispers of the deep into spoken words? Can any amount of music or painting come close to revealing true beauty? Can the glory of the sun compare to the essence behind the sun, to the lifeblood which gives it its glory? Can a foggy mirror produce the same clarity as the thing it reflects? Does the moon shine as brightly as the sun, whose light she mirrors? Sing, my soul, and speak, my mouth, although all falls short of God, although all falls short of the depth of feeling. Though I fall short, still I give my all.

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