Dear Self….get your #^! SH*t together

Ummmmm…where has American Writers Exposed Gone?

Because I surely do not know…

It’s possible I do, so let us see if we can unearth this unkempt void to the beginning. 

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What the triple heck? As surely as eating better, my quest to post articles in a regular, meaningful fashion became lost. Sandi has been long on tour and I languishing on holiday in the cavernous recesses of Mt. Blockheadiness. A dismal vacation I promise.

Excuses are poor and so I shan’t give one.

Let’s talk.

My three year do or die clock has struck. 

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The window I gave myself to make my writing gig happen or pack up. 

There was a time I believed I never procrastinated. My littles complained I stuffed way too many stops into a single trip to town. In this day, I find it hard to prepare for a 3 o’clock appointment. My wonder woman invisible mountain blocks my way.

I mean I have to wake up, which could turn into a 2-hour event. There is showering involved, some primping and whining no doubt. My bed is never made so I don’t have to worry about that, but looking in the closet, the dresser drawers? Yikes, pressure begins to build.

So where in the life of lives of mine does my writing fit? I have acclimated into this clinging seaweed monster of advanced stall tactics smack dab in the middle of living my authorly dreams.

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(This is very close to me but you must add a spin, plus another…circling in the same spot.) Annoying, I know.

Over the past 6 months, I have hooked up with some great people. A phenomenal person. A clever-witted brilliant individual with vision, excitement, and knowledge to catapult me into the penman atmosphere of global literary enlightenment. Like POW, where have you been my whole life?

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And what have I done?

Froze. Deer in headlights, the whole gambit. I have no shame to admit such. What is my issue, fear? Didn’t I give that up the 1st time I submitted anything? posted on the internet? stepped forward and admitted I write romance? 

I’m doing everything I said I’d never do like a middle-aged driving disaster going 35 on the interstate and not in the right lane with hazard lights, but to the left. My personal blog and AWE have been left unattended. Don’t you like that acronym, AWE? See I’m doing it again. 

Deep down I understand my fear. When I started, I believed the hype I’d been told. Never did I dream I’d have more downs than ups. Couldn’t imagine the lack of support I’d receive from my community of related personage. Or realized my ability to be impetuously drawn into non-factorly tasks.

What a load.

So I ask the greatest community of wordsmiths in every stage of their multiple WIPs to send this block of dirt a surge of well wishes to “get er’ done!” (I hate that quote too!) Like, tomorrow, or if I’m seriously serious, today.

 

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Write On ❤ Jess!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Procrastination, self-sabotage & the fear of using words clearly…

1st let me blame my current paradigm on #Starbucks.

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(Yeah, not my name or what I said, but strangely, “this time”, my coffee…)

In my current situation, I find myself with a stomach ache. A self-induced need to vomit due to a class I am taking tomorrow. A one-on-one plotting adventure with a writing coach I admire “too” much and as I try to prepare I find myself with the urge to post here.

Hey ya!

What am I to take from this?

I have hand-scrawled papers strewn about my 10′ long dining room table. My office and desk have become a tangled maze where I can no longer sit comfortably or house the twenty devices I power while writing. I am unable to find the digital files I would like to reference or which apparatus I used while working endless hours on the questions I am sure will be asked.

A mess, a hot, freaking homeless looking disaster would describe me in perfect detail.

Why do I choke? When this is everything I have been working for?

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Somehow, someway trying to place an order through the drive-thru has made me doubt my ability to speak perfect English. I live in the PNW, Pacific Northwest. We don’t have accents unless we are expats from across the country or continents, in which I am not. I have left any valley-girl tendencies back in the eighties, like, totally.

I have, over the years, wheedled my order to the barest of necessities. (the stress involved in a more complicated drink, NOT worth the effort) Americano. Bam. Phlewy. Simple. I need to determine two things, my preferred size and if I’d like my drink iced. There are no bells or whistles. So how does my coffee turn into a Trenta, stirred, non-fat, caramel mocha, extra hot, hold the whip, with drizzle and added cream? ?? ??? 

Aliens? Gremlins have invaded my left frontal brain lobe? No longer do I speak words, but wheeze instead, and the baristas are forced to make the order up?

There are no cars behind me in line. I am alone. There is only 1 drink on the reader board. And if that was my drink, God forbid, I should state my preferences in the wrong order, but it is not. I am 100% positive I am unilingual, sad, I know, and the only words to come out of my mouth were, “May I please,” being polite and all, “have a grande Americano.” Inferring I’d like it hot since the words “iced” were not used.

The whole ordeal defies any form of logic and makes me doubt EVERYTHING. ,

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This will be me.

Because, how? if I am unable to relay a ridiculous coffee order through a drive-thru voice box in clear detail will I ever be able to define the projects I am working on? And storylines are a tad more complicated than ordering a cup of “Joe” or are they?

Write On! ❤ Jess

P.S…wish this girl luck, I have the feeling this is my key to unlocking the magical golden door to the kingdom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

#Happy #June #Baby

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That’s right, so let’s get up and dive in!

(The inspiration is more for me than anyone else, yikes.)

Over on my blog jessicaedouard.com, the one covered in cobwebs and filled with chirping crickets, because I’m a happenstance, infrequent visitor to a blog plastered with my name.

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#WTHJ (What the Heck, Jessica) #GYST (Get your s___together, stuff people, lol) But don’t I make a cute #Kenny? Continue reading

#Confessions

 

Forgive me bloggers for these things about me you should know…

#1-When you follow me I send silent wishings of well-being to your gravatar.

#2-I purposely receive the computer generated follower notice so I can e-mail salutations that you’ll never see. Because they are labeled do not reply. But I issue you a personal thank you and hit send.

#3-At the same time my overwhelming energy of wellness to humanity holds me fiercely in a death grip. Even if you post something that I may not agree on. I will like it for the spirit in which it has been written.

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Why do I write this needless article you wonder? Is is needless? Well, as I sit weekly and return dozens of emails that are absorbed by space, I thought, “is this weird?” From previous entries you know I am a strange-bird. Cue adorable picture.

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Image courtesy of google free images

My humor as staid as my personality, boring and yet full of life. Smiling, I walk on.

What is the purpose? Well, I will tell you what it is for me. I cannot help the urge to spread hope, wishes of well-being and genuine love throughout the universe. You see my daily ramblings @upliftingquotesdaily.com. A vocation to which I dedicate the heart of who I am, wholly.

There is such need for us to stop and appreciate. Ourselves, in this breath and since we have pressures unbounded piled atop of us at breakneck speeds, I hope to do so momentarily for you. A twinkle passing over you in the wind. Positive streams of light and guided energy released and headed to your front door or inbox.

I appreciate you. I care. You matter.

We are all connected in spirit and strength, together we do make a difference. Believe in all things great. You, yours, what can be.

Life’s pressures breed vulnerability. Every day we are fed negativity through various forms of influence and media, everything awful in life for its sensational appeal. And easy to roll into. A flea-ridden blanket riddled with holes offering us misguided comfort. That should be our warning, easy, life is not easy, love is not easy, we as beings are not easy. Forced to believe we are not worthy, but we are.

Take control, project light, move forward, write on! ❤ Jessica

Ps…Does this have anything to do with writing as this blog was intended? Absolutely the bleep not! Breathe pretty flowers, dance.

 

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Let’s talk #Serious

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Can this day, seriously, be the first Wednesday of the month? The very first day of June just happens to fall on a Wednesday? Well, of course, the answer is yes, and good motivation for me to hut one, hut two, get it into gear and get moving!

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 (I couldn’t resist. I’m not a fan of ‘said’ above team, go ahead, hate. I am prepared.)

The real topic, not football, I would like to talk about is our feelings? How do you feel about author New Release posts? Yes, the possibly annoying feed we receive when our WordPress Author friends have recently unveiled a new title in their bookshelf or a recent accomplishment. Are you happy, mad, irritated? Truthfully, do your eyes squint, get misty or grow red? Does a sad little smile quiver on your lips, filled with best wishes but reminding you of your-not quite yets? Does your chest clench or are those your fists under that desk? Now, hear the voice of your favorite evil character …

“Look into my eyes, child, and tell me how you really feel?”

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I am doing honest research.

As I sit and watch the hundreds of feeds over the past year and a half, those particular articles don’t seem the most successful? Am I right? Many author pages just hang, blank. I see millions of hours put into these posts, yet, reception seems a bit cold. Or is that the Artic wind blowin’ round here…if you get what I mean?

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The task of building an author’s platform is daunting. Understanding and knowing that the largest piece of marketing, your awesome self, is well, up to you. Recognizing there are no other options, eventually, mustering the courage, and, while at first joyful and exhilarating, the mission is gosh-darned difficult! (Since we are being honest in this essay, I will tell you I really wanted to use profanity in that last sentence, but my granddaughter is working at her desk next to me. And of course, I read everything out loud.)

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Let’s see you upset this sweet lil’ tattle-tale, she’s daring you.

Okay, back on subject…

Why is that?

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Since we all GET IT why are we not ultra supportive? Reading, leaving reviews? Everything we would hope our peeps would, in return, do for us? Just curious, putting it out there to ponder. I see the cliques work together, the friend of a friend’s friend, but even their shout outs are quite lackluster. Is that not our thing? As bloggers? No cliquishness? Just asking…

As a word freak, I will say in blatant unwavering tongues that if I see another article on the proper usage of present and past tenses I will jab this crazy sharp pencil, with a definite attitude, into my eye.

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No, I really won’t, but jeez whiz, I’d rather go eat…

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Enough is Enough…I know you feel my point. (It just happens…)

Oh’ goodness, wait! The last tidbit before I bore you any longer is the ‘donation’ thing…would you rather see a tip jar? I really am curious how you feel about these, too? I’d personally rather buy a book, a tangible. No? Are we not all working our hardest to earn a living? What am I tipping you for? Did you serve me up some new regurgitated advice with a side of whizziness?

It’s time to end this…Authors, Writers, Poets, and Dear Friends keep fighting the good fight, your work is valuable, I appreciate everything you have done and how hard you are working at a job that sometimes feels…well, hopeless, but don’t give in! You know the lyrics…”Let it snow, let it snow…” Elsa take it away GIRL!

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Write On! ❤ Jessica