So I was thinking I should probably write about writing. I like to call myself a writer--I figure the more often I call myself that, the better the chances are that I'll actually believe it--and I started this blog with the intention of it helping my writing in a nebulous sort of way.

If I whine about it, it (the writing) will come.

That seemed valid.

So my work in progress, or WIP (or WHIP--as in it's thrashing my behind) was a bare bones rough draft--choppy and lacking in exposition, but the creeky skeleton of it was down on paper...until the fatal flaw was pointed out to me--twice, damnit. I bravely dissagreed, because, really, what do published authors know anyway?

Oh.

I read my rough draft again, and again, and again. Cue arrow shot--straight to my writerly heart.

I. Had. To. Start. Over.

Over. And not just, oh well I'll write a new fresh story, no. I love these people, and I had no idea what "You have to kill your darlings," could encompass. A turn of phrase here. A whole loverly scene there. M-o-t-i-v-a-t-i-o-n...killed--changed.

And then, to twist the knife, as I'm re-writing my darling, I realise there are things that need to be changed again {{{again}}} because I've decided something worked better here. And my whole being wants to go back to the beginning (because, it's a very good place to start--or so I've been told) and change the things that need changing so my story will make sense right now.

But I don't. Because I know--know--more things will change and then I'd have to change the first part that leads to the second part and the party of the--you know what I mean. So, I stop myself from going back and just move forward.

And I realised, tonight, that that is a cool analogy for life.

You can't go back and change the first part, just so this part makes better sense--you can only move forward. And make this part--this right now part--the best part it can be.

If Time Really Does Fly, Why Doesn't My Baggage Ever Get Lost ?

Okayokayokay...soooo it's been awhile since I've blogged. And I realized I hadn't blogged in awhile, but when I saw the date of my last post, well, that's just not right. Right?

But, we all know life and...other things happen that makes our time fly. So, why can't it fly first class? I think sometimes it does, we just forget about those times.

Lately I feel as if I'm letting it fly by, or maybe as if I've been grasped by the hand and pulled along--with no control as to any destination.

So, today, my Mom, Joan Kennedy (not that one) gave a workshop at the library where I work and I was reminded in a non naggy mom way that I do have control over my life and my time. I'm the damn pilot. D'oh! I had forgotten that fundamental fact. It's my life. A mental slap to the cerebelum, or wherever, is a good thing, something we all need every once in a while. We all just get pulled into the flow of what's going on around us--a centrifigal force of crap--we forget that we are the pilot and the navigator of ourselves.

And that "baggage" we carry with us, well...let's toss it out over the Bermuda triangle. Ba-bye.

So, what's it like where you stand--are you the pilot? What could you do to become the pilot?