New Year’s Revolution! Well, maybe it’s not a revolution. I just called the post that to get your attention.
Normally I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I used to, back in the day when I also thought that my mum had remarkably similar handwriting to Father Christmas, but then I got disillusioned with Life. Ugh, it happens. But after reading my friend Andrea’s inspiring post on her slightly different New Year’s resolution, I decided that perhaps I should be less of a grouch. (Stop laughing.)
So I hereby present: A Different Daylight’s New Year’s Revolution. Or, the astonishing idea that what I want to do isn’t going to be something that I achieve in January, feel guilty about in February, and forget about in March.
And how, you ask, in that demanding way you have, am I going to make that happen? Simples, as a famous meerkat once said: I will make my resolution achievable, and I will make there be only one of it. (The last part of that sentence was upsettingly awful, I apologise.)
Exposing yourself at the gym, and a magnet
You remember my friend Liz, right? She wrote an hilarious and amazing guest post here back in September, and if you haven’t read it yet you need to do so now.
In addition to being all kinds of awesome, she also read my mind and got me the item in the picture above. (It’s a magnet btw.) But more importantly, it bears the words of my New Year’s Revoluuuuution:
WRITE. EVERY. DAY.
Yeah, I know. Not revolutionary in the slightest. But it might just be the key, the best thing, the most important thing for me to remember. Because I’m supposed to be a writer. And as has been pointed out:
Writing is a muscle. Smaller than a hamstring and slightly bigger than a bicep, and it needs to be exercised to get stronger. Think of your words as reps, your paragraphs as sets, your pages as daily workouts. Think of your laptop as a machine like the one at the gym where you open and close your inner thighs in front of everyone, exposing both your insecurities and your genitals. Because that is what writing is all about.
You see, as well as inflicting this blog on all of you dear, patient readers, I’m also lucky enough to get paid for producing words in a day job. But it’s all non-fiction. (Please don’t mentally insert the word ‘boring’ when you read the word ‘non-fiction’, or I will come to your house and put spiders in your saucepans.) (Not a metaphor, or a euphemism.)
I feel that while my non-fiction muscle is getting a good almost-daily workout, my fiction muscle is wasting awaaaay. (And my actual muscle is fictional, because I barely even know what a gym is, let alone actually darkening the doors of one.) So I’m going to amend my Re(s/v)olution slightly, and force myself to
WRITE. FICTION. EVERY. DAY.
Who knows what will come out the other side? Maybe I’ll stop writing upsettingly awful sentences like the one further up this post (easily recognised by my apology for it being upsettingly awful). Maybe one day I’ll have some fiction I’m not terrified to show anyone. That really would be a revolution. Maybe some of it will appear here, on this very blog, this one you’re reading right now.
What you must do
Your role in this Great Experiment is to harass me relentlessly. Fo serious. Email me, text me, comment on this blog, tweet me, and force me into fessing up to the success or otherwise of the New Year’s Revolution.
The Revolution starts here. And you’re part of it.