"We come into this world head first and go out feet first; in between, it is all a matter of balance." -Paul Boese
I am the worst person to write about balance.
When I'm in the heat of writing, things disappear. Things like meals. Things like clean clothes. Things like downtime. My life begins to revolve around my work.
To an extent, this is par for the course when you're trying to start your own business. Every waking moment is spent, if not working, than thinking about working. Especially when you don't see an immediate payoff, there's that incessant voice in your head, telling you you could be- should be- doing more.
But balance is important. I don't want to turn into one of those brilliant, bitter authors who takes their morning coffee and evening nightcap alone, and spends all the time in between wrestling literary demons. Okay, so maybe part of me does, but that's just not my life. I have a family. I have friends. I have things I need to do.
So how does a writer manage to have a life?
I've narrowed it down to two things. This ain't rocket science, folks.
1) Be present. Whatever you're doing, do it completely. When you're writing, write. When you're socializing online, socialize. When you're cooking, notice the nuances of smell and flavor. When you're spending time with your family and friends, be there. Don't be anywhere else. Don't be that person who wakes up one day and realizes everything they've missed out on.
2) Be grateful. You're alive. You're doing something you love. That's a lot to be grateful for right there. What else do you have? Good weather? Food on the table? People who love you? A book deal? Big or small, cherish and appreciate all of it. Don't get jaded, and don't get entitled. It's bad for your creativity.
Miss A Day Or Two?
Day 1: Lessons From The Cave
Day 2: Set Your Compass
Day 3: Don't Schedule, Manage
Day 4: You Gotta Hustle
Day 5: Feed The Current
Excerpt from All That Glitters:
Ava stared off to the side for a moment. When she looked back at him, her gaze washard. “And just when were you planningon telling me all this?”
Ethan balked. “What?”
“You heard me. You’veobviously known this- or at least had your suspicions- for a while. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Damn it, that’s not the point!” Ethan started to pace, something he’d neverdone. “Don’t you get it? I’m…” He blew out a breath. He waswhat? Worried? More like terrified. He met her eyes again. “Just say you’ll stay with me,” he said. “Please. I can keep you safe.”
Ava stared at him. “You can keep me safe?”
Instantly, he realized what a mistake that had been. “Sweetheart…”
Ava jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, cowboy. ‘Keep me safe’, my ass. I’ve been keeping myself safe my entire life. If you really wanted to ‘keep me safe’, you’dhave told me to watch my back!”
Ethan twisted. So shehad a point. That didn’t change a damnthing. His mind raced. He had to convince her somehow. Badgering her wouldn’t work. She was too stubborn for that.
He kissed her.
Ava’s hand flew up reflexively to brace against hischest. Her shocked protest vanishedunder his lips. She should pullaway. She needed to pull away.
His hand trailed up her neck to cradle the base of her skull,and he angled her head to sink deeper. She groaned. God, she wantedhim. Needed him. Damn him. Damn her. Damn everything.