The one thing about living where I live is that the summers are gorgeous. The sun doesn't go down until unfathomably late and while I sometimes get sentimental about the stultifying heat and humidity in New York City, a mild summer day isn't so bad. Being outside in the summer in the Pacific Northwest is natural and encouraged. I've developed an affection for Disc Golf.
The problem with that however is that the time I'm spending outside is time I'm not spending writing. It's time I'm not spending on skill development or research or world building. And while that's awesome in small doses, I worry about too much of a good thing. I still carry with me a bit of the person that was on the Public School calendar, where I did a whole lot of not much between mid-June and Labor Day. Old habits are hard to break.
But here's where I try: I've got a commitment in my head to not only finish the first draft of the new novel I'm working on, but to also post two short stories -- at least -- on this blog, all by the end of the summer. Lofty goals, I know. I've been working on the first draft for three years already, and I'm only a little better than halfway done. That's why I'm stating it here, on the blog.
I joined a couple of like-minded individuals in a writing group that was based on a simple concept: accountability. Our stories are our assignments. Not unlike school, where a teacher handed out homework (Every. Damn. Day.), only here there's no algebra. We are accountable to the group, lest we provide the coffee.
I'm also going to use the summer to make my weight loss goals, once again made public for the sake of accountability. I'm going to restart the "Chubby Me" posting I did a couple of years ago and work myself into being less "fluffy."
And, of course, I'm going to blog more.
