At present, just in writing projects, I have an exercise I wrote yesterday to revise into a full-on story, a character sketch to do for T.R.’s Christmas book, an outline for that same project, a stint to complete on the story that I think will become Syd’s Christmas book, and possibly an outline of where I think the story might go from where it is now.
That doesn’t count the reading I intend to do to support all those activities. I’m on my fourth or fifth Lewis and Clark book with at least one more to go after that. I read a refresher chapter in a writing book prior to writing my exercise of yesterday and have another to go for today’s character sketch. I am going to the library to get a couple books to deepen my understanding of plot and how it emerges eventually (I hope!) from the tangle of digressions that is my writing style.
I’m sure I won’t finish all the things marked out for this day, if for no other reason that I got up at 2 this morning and am likely to crash in early afternoon. But I’m happy about them, finished or not. They are things filled with possibility and hope.
That, in turn, has made it possible for me to work on some of the ickier items on the list of things to do. I don’t want to dilute the good feeling of accomplishment in one (selfish) area with guilt for not having done the pesky banking tasks, the laundry I should have done yesterday, the basic maintenance that keeps life running relatively smoothly.
It is as if I have hidden treats for myself at points along my path. For just this moment, the good things seem to be winning the momentum battle.
I am a lucky person.