Sunday, January 15, 2012


Tenacity is defined as the quality or fact of being determined. Though I set many, many goals for 2012, most of them have fallen through. In fact, nearly all of them have been changed or manipulated in one way or another. This isn't uncommon for me. I frequently decide that things aren't as important to me as they were when I decided to do them. Even if there is an obligation to someone, I may back out. It's usually because I don't feel I can do the job properly any more, what with not wanting to do it at all.

In the first two weeks, I've stopped reading French every day, completely thrown my writing schedule off balance, changed my 'no soda' rule to 'no soda before one liter of water,' since most of my soda-craving comes from being thirsty. I destroyed my morning and night routine the second I rediscovered physical books and a cache of Judith McNaught romances. I stopped writing everything except my world, partially because the stories didn't interest me, partially because I don't want to get ahead, partially because I want to fix the previous chapters in order to allow my readers to fully understand the new chapters. My short story goal fell apart— I'm changing it to an average of one short story a week.

Even school has suffered. I was going to read two pages of psychology and watch one physics video a day. That changed to reading more nonfiction books and watching any educational video. Which both fell through.

The only thing, in fact, that probably hasn't changed is the fact that I am still writing my world. KT Barrow from the Write Write & Write group suggested it in December, and except for the second day when I finished my post just after midnight, each entry has been written every day.

I'm not sure why this goal stayed together when all the others fell through (even my reading schedule fell apart; I was reading romance when I ought to have been reading Jane Austen and the Maha-bharata). It could be the act that so many people are counting on it. It could be that I haven't lost my interest in it yet. It could be that it's such an easy goal to fulfill (not. Finding topics to fill 500 words is torture at times).

All I know is that nearly asleep on the flight from Cochin to Kuala Lumpur, after six hours of sleep for quite a few consecutive nights, after finishing the last McNaught novel I have… I realized I hadn't written my world yet. And because I was too lazy to get up and take my laptop out of the electronics bag, I took out my iPod and started tapping away.

I know I have a really warped sense of laziness— my thumbs have been aching for about 200 words now— but I'm kind of amazed at my sticktoitiveness so far.

*Bunica: sticktoitiveness înseamnă să fi lipit de ceva, adică să te ți de treabă.

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