This post is sponsored by the American Cancer Society. Please watch the video at the end.
One of the things that I’ve done in the past few months is re-commit myself to writing my tale about being born in the Soviet Union and immigrating to the United States at the tender age of nine. Or possibly ten, I have to look that part up.
It is the story that I want to tell because in many ways it is the story that I live every day. Even though I’ve been in the United States for over thirty years now, I still identify very much as The Other.
But that’s the thing with writing. No one can do it for you. Well except ghostwriters. But I’m fresh out, so- that’s the thing about writing. No one can do it for me.
I have to do it myself and that means that I need time and the authority to write.
I’ve been working on both. I’ve been waking up early– earlier than the kids and instead of surfing the internet like a normal person, I’ve been writing. Because it is important to me and because it is a story that I believe in. Having lived it and all.
I’ve given myself some deadlines, but they are soft. I don’t work well with daily word goals, but I do write for a certain amount of time every day. And I have the goal of finishing a first draft of my manuscript by September and having a draft that I’m happy with by January 31st. Why January 31st? Because that’s two months before my birthday and I like to build in some time for watching The Bachelorette and The Real Housewives of New York and/or Beverly Hills. And also like if I have to fly to Oslo to pick up my Nobel Peace Prize. Which is unlikely since I’m a warmonger at heart.
I like tying goals to my birthday because first of all, it’s a handy way of reminding people about when my birthday is (March 31st in case the two months from January 31st was too subtle.)
And also because I celebrate each and every birthday fully. I’m one of those people who is ridiculously happy on my birthday, I don’t regret getting older for a second, I consider it a true privilege. I feel blessed to celebrate another year, to mark more time to spend with my children.
Yes, it’s a privilege. And I hope that one day it will be a right for everyone.
What a great goal.