Well, look at that! It’s New Year’s Eve. How did that happen? (I know exactly how it happened, and where the months went.) It’s high time I returned to my somewhat neglected blog.
Since it’s that special last evening of the year, a very apt topic would be New Year’s resolutions. Let me cut to the chase.
I have none.
I don’t think resolutions are very helpful. The only thing they seem to accomplish is propagate the feeling that we are not enough now. But we are. We always are, even with the gazillion things that we wish could be better.
Not setting resolutions, for me, doesn’t mean giving up on what I want to achieve, but respecting where I am now and the work it took to get here.
So here’s to a brand new year. May we enter it as we are—as we truly are—and may we see the beauty in what is right here, right now. As it is.
Happy New Year, everybody!
P.S.
In the spirit of what I wrote above, I’d like to celebrate what’s been happening lately. They are small steps, but I cherish them.
I never mentioned it on here that my poem, “Green Blade,” was published in Sylvia Magazine in August. (I know, I know. Four months ago. I should have said something earlier). If you’d like to read it, please click here because Sylvia Magazine’s website has been recently having problems.
Also, my flash piece, “The Librarian,” was reprinted in Stupefying Stories (and is now free to read) after originally appearing in Shoreline of Infinity.
Last but not least, I’m witnessing how my current WIP is blossoming into something I truly love. This whole experience is changing my view on the process of revising. Like so many others ( I’m sure), I used to be in the camp of “revising is hard, mind-boggling, dreaded work.”
But now, when I see each word fall into the right place as if predestined, working on this novel is becoming a source of fulfillment. I always thought that the fulfillment would only come at “The End,” or when I have an agent, or a publishing contract, or…all fodder for resolutions.
So here’s to enjoying, celebrating, and respecting each step of our journeys, even the tiny ones; or the slow, hesitant ones; or the ones that seem to backtrack. Sometimes, going slow and backwards is necessary.
And that’s ok.
It is enough.
Adriana Kantcheva 