I wasn't doing so badly on the regular blogging. Kinda. Whatevs.
So. I'm going through this weird kinda what do I really want to do with my life phase. Those who really know me are like...Phase? Is that what the kids are calling it these days? WTF? Yeah, I got great friends. Actually, I do. And my hubby is lumped in there too.
Back to this phase... I'm going on my seventh or eighth year of this phase. Not. Even. Kidding. But wait. I'm making it sound so negative and it really isn't. I have learned a lot about myself during this phasic (new word, you're welcome...hold on sec. I looked it up and it is a word. Fuck. I'd seem way smarter if I deleted this part.) period. What are some of the things I've learned?
Well. For one, writing is fucking hard. Not that I thought it would be easy. But getting my ass in that chair and pounding on the keyboard every single day is a struggle for me. And I'm not sold on its worth. You see, I am petrified. Of failure. Of success. Of not producing enough. Of my 75-year-old Catholic uncle finding out I write about open door sex. Of not connecting with other writers. Yeah, every other writer I read about has a hundred (yes, I'm exaggerating) close fellow-writer-friends. And me? Choke. The one loverly writer-friend I have is leaps and bounds ahead of me, which makes me extremely happy for her (for real), but it makes it difficult to be on the same page. She'll totally read anything I send her, I just gotta do it. And she'd give me advice, if I asked. And she'd commiserate if I needed her to. But it feels–to me–like I'm the only that would benefit and the last thing I want is for her to feel that too. So I just keep my distance.
That brings me to my next rant... How do you connect (connect, connect, not email received connect) with someone online? No fucking clue. I've tried and failed. Poor me. Not really. I'll live and it doesn't prevent me writing. Other stuff does that. And it's all in my head. You'd think that'd be great for a writer. Um, not so much, no.
I write all this pap here, and I think about it (by it, I mean writing) constantly. I discuss it with my husband (who patiently listens and tells me I should persevere). And I still want to be a fucking writer. What the hell is wrong with me? The idea of not writing hurts my heart. Now if the idea of not finishing did the same I might be on to something.
Then I go down the rabbit hole. If I'm not pushed, inspired, just gotta do it or I'll die, to write then maybe I'm just not meant to be a writer. Not a writer that finishes stuff, and queries it, and publishes it, anyway. You'd laugh (maybe cry) if you saw my half finished renos. Ha. It's a theme. And I didn't even know what the theme was until I had finished, or looked back. You know what I mean.
I wrote all this just to get to my post topic... I was thinking of NaNoWrimo-ing. I've got a few hours to decide.
Could you just shine for a few days in a row? Warm me up. I'm ready. I dare you.
Moved, by a certain song, to write a short story. So I jumped right in. Then, while writing and listening to music (not THE song) another stood out as inspirational for my heroine. Give this a listen...Simple Plan's Jet Lag. It's the French version––being the good half-French Canadian I am. Enjoy the guys and the lovely Marie-Mai.
Happy Saturday morning.
Twitter, man. I think of all kinds of things to post but then talk myself out of it. For two reasons: as if anyone wants to read that or I don't feel like sitting in front of my computer right now.
Could I just retweet everything? Is that bad form? It's not plagiarism, that I know. Probably is bad form. It's not terribly original that's for sure.
It's my anniversary today - 22 years. What? And I still like my husband. I believe he still likes me. I use like because it's an important word in relationships. I love my daughter, I love my mother, I love my sister, I love my husband. Do I like my sister? Yeah, most of the time, but sometimes not so much. Do you like yours? Think about it. I actually like my husband - it's a big deal.
I recently joined a book club. Fancy. I know. We read The Husband's Secret by Liane Moriarty. I love HEAs. This book was difficult for me. Right until the bitter end I thought things were gonna work out. Then BAM. They don't. Not really. Don't want to give out any spoilers but... I just really wanted the truth to come out for the characters, not for the reader in the epilogue. Don't get me wrong. It was a great read. Moriarty's female characterizations are sharp and honest, I laughed out loud often. Pick it up. You won't be disappointed, unless you're a die-hard happy-ender, then maybe you'll be a tad disappointed.
So. That's it for me. Felt like rambling today. Probably I shoulda just tweeted something.
I'm a fan. But I've never seen him live. What an idiot I am. My husband and I were regular concert goers for years. But the last few years–10 actually–we've mostly seen Matt Good live, with the odd band here and there.
Back to Neil Finn. Shit. I coulda seen Neil Finn quite a few times if I'd been smarter. Ah, sweet regret. I'll be buying tickets to every future show. Saturday's concert was one of the best shows I have ever seen. I have never witnessed an artist so freaking pleased to be present. He mentioned previous visits to Toronto, remembering the names of concert halls he's played before. Genuinely kind, and engaging. And his voice. Amazing. And we got two encores. He played songs from his new album - Dizzy Heights, and Crowded House songs, and Split Enz songs. How I love Message to My Girl. Writing plug goes here: that song was the inspiration for Ben Copley.
The short of it is...if Neil is coming to a town near you, buy tickets. It'll so be worth it.
You know what I mean. That website, or laundry, or nap that loves to suck your time away. This is mine right now... The Daily Love. Check it out, I know it won't be a waste of your time. So many good articles.
I love this post...from our very own Chris Assaad. By our very own, I mean a fellow Canadian. :) Check it out, and browse around the website if this post doesn't resonate, because I guarantee one will. Enjoy.
and Matt Nathanson... These photos are mine, all mine, so I don't have to attribute rights to anyone. Yay. Anyway...
I am totally loving the Arkells right now. They are r-o-c-k-i-n-g my world. I know I'm late to the party. What can I say, but wow. Just wow. If you haven't heard them, seriously go and check them out. Here's a link, so you can give 'em a listen. Hey, I'm taking the leg work out of it for you. So do it. Now.
And for good measure, I'm including some of my other photos of celebs. That's Matt Nathanson, Kevin Costner, and Amanda Tapping down there. Hello.
Yoga. So, yeah, it's happening. I have attended about a dozen classes since my previous post. I haven't loved all of them, but I do love going. I have written some, less than I care to admit, but at least some.
It's good. It's happening. I love it. Cheer me on, yeah?
What I mean is–I will do more. I don't know about you, but I think about doing stuff, a lot, rather than actually doing. Maybe my title should be The Year of Doing.
I've been planning to start yoga for years. Prolly about three years. I think that's right. You think I'm kidding? I wish I were. :( This morning, I dropped in at a local studio for a yoga class. I did it. And to add insult to injury, I bought 30 days for $30. And, and, I already signed-up for a class tomorrow morning. No shit. Maybe I'll let y'all (yeah, I know I'm Canadian, I just love the crap out of that word) know whether I showed.
Anyway, back to the year of more. I'm gonna do stuff this year. Not everything I've been thinking of because then I'd have to give up sleep, and family time, and eating. Probably yoga, too. I'm digging in to my renos. I'm doing yoga (we've already established). I'm writing more. Shit, I quit my job to write more and do this stuff, so I'd better do it or go back to work. Right?
I can feel it, this is going to be a transformative year for me. Nothing like heaping the pressure on yourself, Kacie. Wish me luck. And if you need a pep talk to do the same, let me know. I can do it. :)
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I know many might consider me a little late. I still mean it.
I had a spectacular Christmas and a wonderful New Year's Eve. My family spent the end of the year in Antigua. Very nice and no sunburn to speak of. Even nicer. Then we returned to an icebox–holy cow, it's freezing.
Justin Trudeau and Sophie Gregoire, and their children and others were staying at the same resort. What? I know, right. There were a lot of Brits and Americans, so I'm guessing they were able to relax.
Anyway, I'm no longer working, which means I'll have more time to write. More time to cook. More time to clean my house. More time to exercise. And none of these are shoulds–they're all wills. Does that make sense?
Yep. That's my 2014. It's gonna be awesome. Any plans for yours?
I'm attempting to become published. Sometimes, I