GIP = NYR
So my major new year's resolution can be summarized by my icon.
THINGS I have to write in the next few months:
- Finish a first draft (and pick a goddamn title already) of Teh Novel, a.k.a. "Oh, look, a demon." Would like to get this draft done ASAP so as to let it sit for a month, edit it, and start querying agents. Because I have waited too fucking long to do this sort of thing.
- Co-write Stars Over Atlantis with mllelaurel, to premiere at Intercon in March.
- Finish writing A Crown of Hearts, to premiere at Festival in April.
- Continue participating in kink_las, so a small piece of fanfiction every couple of weeks.
THINGS I would like to write in the next while:
- Scope out the market for original erotic fiction and try to write some. I know I write good pr0n. Getting money for it would be nice.
- Continue with the Xenosaga novelization project, ideally in weekly installments.
- Reboot and/or continue with Sire & Pup. I know, I keep saying I want to restart this every time I do one of these posts. But every time I mention to somebody that one of my writing projects is kinky bi poly genderfucky alternate-history gnostic epistulary porn, they squee. Hard. Like maybe paying for it hard.
So yeah. That's a lot of THINGS. But seriously, guys? I can write almost sixteen thousand words in twenty-four hours. I can finish NaNoWriMo quite comfortably, even after having lost more than a week's worth of time to LARP con prep. So fifty thousand words in, what, twenty-one, twenty-two days? I can be kind of freakishly fucking prolific as long as I actually get around to it. I CAN DO THIS SHIT IF I STOP SABOTAGING MYSELF.
I'm not going to do that thing where I look back to last year's resolutions and see how I did on them, because frankly? I'm just going to disappear into a mire of self-loathing and decide that I should never set goals for myself again and that I'm incapable of success. I know how my brain works. And it's not like there isn't a part of me saying that this is pointless, that I'm just going to embarrass myself by never living up to my own expectations, have another year of aimless dicking around, and so the fuck on. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!
I have a couple of other vague and somewhat miscellaneous new year's plans, most of which involve Trying To Be A Fucking Grownup Already. Y'know, things like...
- Keeping better track of my spending.
- Remembering to eat more than one meal a day. ('Cause, seriously. Yes, I'm fat. No, I'm not going to try to lose weight, because I already have enough issue with my eating. Like forgetting to eat for up to twenty-four hours at a time. Problematic. Step one: stop treating my body like crap.)
- Try to get my constant exhaustion and lethargy and misc. other symptoms actually dealt with by an actual doctor. (There's a very good chance that something's fucked up with my thyroid, just like all the other women in my family. Former fail!doctor did not pursue that theory because I'm fat, and because fat is the root of all evil and there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me besides my weight.)
- Have a sex life again.
- Shower regularly. (Carefully formed a habit of that over years; habit has been broken by long-term unemployment and my previous place of residence having no fucking hot water in my bathroom despite my repeatedly bothering my landlord who didn't give a shit.)
- Never run out of milk on New Year's Eve again, because oh my fucking god, I've seen less insane lines and parking at the grocery store before a fucking hurricane. WTF?
- But seriously, really, WRITE ALL THE THINGS!
THINGS I have to write in the next few months:
- Finish a first draft (and pick a goddamn title already) of Teh Novel, a.k.a. "Oh, look, a demon." Would like to get this draft done ASAP so as to let it sit for a month, edit it, and start querying agents. Because I have waited too fucking long to do this sort of thing.
- Co-write Stars Over Atlantis with mllelaurel, to premiere at Intercon in March.
- Finish writing A Crown of Hearts, to premiere at Festival in April.
- Continue participating in kink_las, so a small piece of fanfiction every couple of weeks.
THINGS I would like to write in the next while:
- Scope out the market for original erotic fiction and try to write some. I know I write good pr0n. Getting money for it would be nice.
- Continue with the Xenosaga novelization project, ideally in weekly installments.
- Reboot and/or continue with Sire & Pup. I know, I keep saying I want to restart this every time I do one of these posts. But every time I mention to somebody that one of my writing projects is kinky bi poly genderfucky alternate-history gnostic epistulary porn, they squee. Hard. Like maybe paying for it hard.
So yeah. That's a lot of THINGS. But seriously, guys? I can write almost sixteen thousand words in twenty-four hours. I can finish NaNoWriMo quite comfortably, even after having lost more than a week's worth of time to LARP con prep. So fifty thousand words in, what, twenty-one, twenty-two days? I can be kind of freakishly fucking prolific as long as I actually get around to it. I CAN DO THIS SHIT IF I STOP SABOTAGING MYSELF.
I'm not going to do that thing where I look back to last year's resolutions and see how I did on them, because frankly? I'm just going to disappear into a mire of self-loathing and decide that I should never set goals for myself again and that I'm incapable of success. I know how my brain works. And it's not like there isn't a part of me saying that this is pointless, that I'm just going to embarrass myself by never living up to my own expectations, have another year of aimless dicking around, and so the fuck on. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!
I have a couple of other vague and somewhat miscellaneous new year's plans, most of which involve Trying To Be A Fucking Grownup Already. Y'know, things like...
- Keeping better track of my spending.
- Remembering to eat more than one meal a day. ('Cause, seriously. Yes, I'm fat. No, I'm not going to try to lose weight, because I already have enough issue with my eating. Like forgetting to eat for up to twenty-four hours at a time. Problematic. Step one: stop treating my body like crap.)
- Try to get my constant exhaustion and lethargy and misc. other symptoms actually dealt with by an actual doctor. (There's a very good chance that something's fucked up with my thyroid, just like all the other women in my family. Former fail!doctor did not pursue that theory because I'm fat, and because fat is the root of all evil and there couldn't possibly be anything wrong with me besides my weight.)
- Have a sex life again.
- Shower regularly. (Carefully formed a habit of that over years; habit has been broken by long-term unemployment and my previous place of residence having no fucking hot water in my bathroom despite my repeatedly bothering my landlord who didn't give a shit.)
- Never run out of milk on New Year's Eve again, because oh my fucking god, I've seen less insane lines and parking at the grocery store before a fucking hurricane. WTF?
- But seriously, really, WRITE ALL THE THINGS!