I had a call with my friend Jenna last night — I’m participating in her coaching program — and we had a beautiful conversation about what my life looked like when I saw myself at my highest potential.
There were a lot of things that came up, but the first thing I think of is writing. I want to be writing. It makes me so goddamn happy. I can’t believe I put it to bed for so many years.
The rewrite is moving forward. I looked over my notes for this next section and feel more ready to go. I’m planning to make more progress now that I’m back in my routine and have already blocked off weekday and weekend time in the coming days to do some longer writing sessions.
I still oscillate wildly between thinking my work is thinly veiled fanfiction with zero substance and feeling awed by how much I love my characters . . . but it doesn’t really matter right now what I think of it. It matters that I do it. And in the doing it, I am happy.
Here are my last sentences from this past week:
- 7/9: “I’ll figure it out,” I say weakly.
- 7/10: Sleep it off tomorrow.
- 7/11: “I’m sorry,” I say again, tiredly.
- 7/12: For once, I do.
- 7/13: And who would want to?
- 7/14: A dented Hello Kitty toaster tumbles from a pile and rolls out onto the carpet.
- 7/15: When Cora gets home from school that afternoon she drags me away from the bathroom (where I’m using a toothbrush to scrub off tile grout) for a photoshoot.
With Love,
Natalie