I’ve never been one for New Year’s Resolutions. I understand the point of them – January the 1st always has a clean, raw feeling to it, like freshly shed skin and we all emerge pale and blinking from the gigantic countdown that is New Year’s Eve. It’s a time of beginnings, of resetting clocks, of making decisions and statements of intent for the coming twelve months.
I’ve neglected this blog, and my writing, for the last six weeks or so. It seems to be a cycle I’ve been getting into this last year – bursts of activity, followed by slumps of inactivity caused by all manner of self-absorbed nonsense and lazy excuses. December is a perfect month for lazy excuses, crammed full as it is with hard work, head colds and the occasional social engagement. But then I read other writer’s blogs explaining how terrible a year they’ve had and yet they carry on writing, with regularity, and don’t complain about it.
I won’t make resolutions this year, they have a singular finality about them that makes them fragile (i.e. they are easily broken). Instead I need to have resolve, in its simplest meaning of having determination in everything I do writing-wise. Determination to finish stories that I begin writing; determination to then revise those stories/novellas/novels to the best possible draft and submit them; determination to read, for fun, research, inspiration; determination to write a novel and have it published. These are not resolutions. There are no absolutes here. I just need to have the resolve to do what I need to do at the time that it needs doing, rather than putting it off, and staring at it, and worrying about it, because I have to remember one thing.
I love writing. I love reading great writing. It gives me a thrill to get lost in a story, both creating and reading it. And I know I can do it. And isn’t that half the battle?