If we were having coffee, I’d say, “Welcome to Day Six of Just Jot It January, where the theme is: “tangible.”
And then, I’d welcome you into my tangibly creative life, and our tangibly untidy home. Of course, since I’m writing this very early on Friday morning, and I’ve slept really only in bits and pieces for the last two days, and irregularly all week, I might also be tangibly a little punchy. If that’s entertaining to you, you’re going to love this post!
OK, all that said, let’s use my new coffee mugs. They’re nice and big, just the right shape, and have nice messages (which is why I bought them especially for myself and my #weekendcoffeeshare guests). It’s not an accident that they also hold enough coffee to produce a tangible “wake up” effect...something very handy for a writer whose brain seems to be on overdrive, getting busy with an abundance of inspirations, epiphanies, and project ideas.
So, do you mind if I tell you a little bit about what’s bubbling in my exceedingly active mind?
Thanks. I was probably going to get more than a little jittery trying to hold it all in when it blends with strong coffee…
This week, I began Holly Lisle’s How to Revise Your Novel. It’s an intensive 22-week class, and, at the end, I will have learned a good and solid framework for revising the hundreds of thousands of words I have written and not so patiently waiting to get out of my laptop and out into the world.
It’s the key to opening the door to the next level of professionalism. It’s exciting; I can already see, from this first lesson, that the way I approach revisions, and the other stages of writing, is changing for the better.
After this, publishing and marketing are the only summits I will still have to scale.
It’s exciting. A dream I’ve held since I was a child banging on my dad’s old manual typewriter – the yearning he called a “pipe dream” - can become a reality!
Well, coffee can only work for so long, no matter how large the mug, or how strong the brew. I’m sure you’ve seen enough of my uvula with this huge yawns. Let me walk you to the door, before I go reacquaint myself with my bed.