All Is Good

       This was one of those days that I wish I could gather up all it's moments, thoughts, feelings and emotions and bottle up for a rainy day. Clearly with my previous entry, by tomorrow it will be in the past and just another notion of my life, but I don't care, I enjoyed today.

       Nothing extraordinary happened. Nothing spectacular in the grand scheme of things, and nothing that couldn't happen tomorrow. Today, I felt relief and for now thats all that matters. If there is a sanctity of mind, I achieved it today and I enjoyed it.

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       I wrote in my book today, finally figuring out a specific character thats been giving me "grief" as he will say from time to time in my book. This afternoon as I started writing this persona into my book, I smiled from time to time with ultimate satisfaction knowing I'd finally set an important puzzle piece within it's pages. Thank You, by the way, to the persona that gifted me with the inspiration.

       One of the dilemmas with writing a book is adding all the right characters. I appreciate ordinary, I delight in eccentric and embrace the quirks of each of the 'players' within the story I'm attempting to convey. But sometimes, all right, often, as a writer I find myself roadblocked by need. Need of protecting a personal theme. The need to add just the right mix of characters without diluting the overall picture. The need to say what's just banging against my head to get out. The need to add character 1 with character 2 with a clash of peeps 3 and 4.

       Perfectionism is going to be either the death of my writing career, or the death of me.

       On those dragging days, when nothing seems to work, I add alittle role playing role across my mind. It goes something like this.

      I walk into the blaring lights of the Today show, smiling sweetly at Katie Couric who's gray hair is remarkably silver with the lighting. Every wrinkle on her 70 year old face is filled in with unconvincing pancake foundation. She asks her first important question, "Rebecca, your the author of a best selling novel, tell us, how long did it take you to write your brilliant piece of work that has touching the hearts of millions?"

      I shift uncomfortably in my chair, and stare down at my calloused hands, "Well Katie, I have to be honest, it took about 25 years. Perfectionism is tough to manipulate around 100,000 words of thought. In fact, it equates to 1,000 rewrites and I've murdered off at least 500 people/characters that just didn't fit in my book. I'm a serial persona killer."

       Gasps can then be heard from around the world by all other wannabe writers and beyond that I can hear the laughs of the writers who plugged out a book in 6 months flat......Hey, it's my role playing, and my way of kicking myself in the arse to get a move on things. Ok, it's one of those creative mind things, we like to self torture on occasion, gets the creative juices flowing. Yes, ok, maybe just in my world. It is what it is. A delightful torture venue with a goal of possible finality at the end of the line.

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       The biggest notion in my mind about today, was that I'm finally feeling like myself again. I know I don't add a lot of details in my journal, all right, my journal is typically devoid of details. But overall, the month of February was a tough one for me. I had a surgery at the beginning of the month, some complications, some rather unexpected ups and downs, twists and turns that flayed me like a dead fish on a cutting board. But thats all over now, in the past and now, I feel like facing the future. I'm fine, is actually true for once and I adore saying that. I can even feel the pull of a possible Happy Dance coming my way soon........

All is Good, and I'm enjoying the peace of it.
And thank you, again, for the offer. Wish I could have made it happen,
on the Gray Reef horizon