other people getting published

Once when I told my grandma’s friend that I want to write, she told me it was impractical, but if I must, I could do something functional like transcribing medical textbooks into online versions.  Boy, does that sound fun.

I’ve been reading Joey Comeau’s Overqualified website, which is a collection of real cover letters that he sent out with job applications to dozens of corporations over the past few years.  When I first discovered this website at least three years ago (though now I no longer remember how I first came across it) I mostly read the comic, but soon discovered the Overqualified section and was highly amused.  Now it turns out Joey has turned the letter into a book, which is getting published.  Rock on!

And what struck me was that from this small idea he had, or some way he entertained himself, or some fluke, he’s now getting a book published.  Think about Julie and Julia, that movie about cooking and Julia Childs that was based on a blog written by somebody named Julia in New York.  These things are crazy to me, call them what you will, mini success stories, entrepreneurship, miracles.  What I wonder is if Julie and Joey have forever had burning desires to be published, or if this was just something great that happened in their lives and all of a sudden they were Real Writers.

I’ve noticed by way of this blog that all I want to write about here is writing.  Lots of things happen to me every day.  I’m in England and I’ve seen cute towns and snow and sheep and family and friends, and there’s a lot to write about that might be interesting to read, if only for my mom.  But.  I can’t seem to force myself to write every day, though that was my goal…to write every day for a month.  I thought it would be a good New Year’s Resolution but then realised that I had no computer access on the first because I was in London, then was staying at Benny’s house on the second and third, and I feel weird blogging on other people’s computers.  So maybe I’ll start small and see if I can blog every day for a week.  Except starting Thursday I’ll be travelling again, so who knows what will happen.

I used to have this goal to write in my journal every night before bed.  I think that may have been a resolution once as well.  But now I look at my journal and the dates are separated by three to five weeks, usually.  Even though I always have one with me (there are many; I’ve started at least three or four at the moment and can only think of two in my whole life I’ve finished).

Bottom line:  if I want to get published (ever) I’m pretty sure I need consistency, a routine, standards, discipline.  It ain’t gonna happen from me just thinking about it.  I actually have to write.  Consistently.

I also think my blog needs more links and pictures to be more interesting.  Working on that too. But that’s another issue.

10/14/09

Wrote this in my journal on 10/14/09.  Thought it was worth sharing.

What if I woke up each morning knowing all the things that would happen that day?  I could properly prepare for the whole day, knowing who I’d meet, what connections I’d make, and how the day would unfold.

Sometimes I try to live my days this way, mostly when I’m at Brown.  I look at my planner and see a full schedule of events—meetings, classes, lectures, lunch dates, coffee, rehearsal, frisbee practice, phone calls.  Days like this go by so fast and yet so slow.  I’m constantly thinking of the next thing on my agenda, how much time I have to get there, when I’ll eat, or pee, or drink some water.  And then something goes wrong.  I meet a friend, he tells me he heard that lecture was going to be terrible, or sold out, or there was a better once starting in half an hour across campus.  So I change plans.  And the schedule has to be shifted, I’m late to class, I consider skipping practice at the end of the day because I’m so wiped from hopping from spot to spot all day.

Are these days better than those for which the calendar is blank?  I’m not so sure.  If I had known in the morning that I’d meet that friend and see such a bomb lecture, I suppose I could have been excited in the morning when I woke up, and all day long after that.  But with the way the day unfolded, it was a surprise.

I’ve decided that it’s the surprises that make my days.  For a while now, my friend Scott has been telling me to be happy each day.  I finally realized that I didn’t quite understand, so I asked him what he meant.  Did he mean that I had to be happy all day, every day?  Or just have at least one happy moment each day?  He told me that what he really meant was for me to wake up happy, or at least content with where I was and what I’d be doing.  So then I thought, what happens on days when I wake up having nothing to look forward to?  That’s where the surprises come in  Knowing each day that something unexpected will happen is reassuring to me; like change, it is the only constant.

I think this all ties back to present time, a concept I was first exposed to when I did improv with HIT my senior year of high school.  Andy stressed present time as a crucial tool not only for improv, but for life too.  Acknowledging the percentage of our lives that are accounted for by surprises only reaffirms my interest in present time.  Living in the moment is the only thing that makes sense when I think about how much of what is to come simply cannot be known or planned for.  That’s not to say that I’m ignoring my future at large, but on a day to day, or really a moment to moment basis, if I want to be happy, there is no way to do so other than by focusing on and engaging in right here and now.

How often am I excited for the next five months?  Almost always. (ex. right now the next five months include Christmas, New Years, more time in England, Scotland, going back to Brown and living in a real house with Mark Katie and Ben, maybe BOLT leading, hopefully dance, definitely frisbee, writing, spring break ’10, hopefully Bonnie visiting, etc…) But how often am I excited for the next five minutes?  Rarely. And how often do I know what these minutes will hold?  Also rarely. The numbers don’t match up.  Surprises are exciting.  I’m trying not to forget that the contents of so many minutes in my day are actually unknown, and it’s refreshing to know that.