100 Little Reasons
Today marks the 100th blog post. One hundred! Some were short. Some were sweet. Plenty were snarky vents.
Many featured Little Miss Muse in all her purple, glittery glory. Though now she’s in the corner, flicking her Zippo at me, declaring that I still haven’t given her due credit. Muses are such egotistical creatures…
To celebrate, I’ve decided to list the top 100 reasons I love writing. Keep it positive. Keep it sparkly.
And mostly keep away from the negativity bender I’ve been on lately (when surrounded by such a massive amount of worldly downers and family drama, one tends to muck about in one’s own negative attitude).
But, today? I’m celebrating! In no particular order (except maybe that very first one—holding tight to the number-one spot is an introvert’s absolute dream):
100 Reasons I Love Being a Writer
1. Alone time.
2. My office supply fetishes are tax deductible.*
3. Cheaper than a therapist.
4. Anger management.
5. Imaginary friends still talk to me.
6. Author friends from around the world.
7. Playing with cover designs.
8. Brainstorming a thousand possible outcomes that I can control.
9. The learning never ends.
10. Holding a book in my hands that was only in my mind a few months ago.
11. Cats are mandatory sub-muses, it seems.
12. Going for a brisk walk counts as “work time.”
13. Napping counts as “work time.”
14. Going for a drive counts as “work time.”
15. Going to a movie counts as “research.”
16. Meandering the library shelves is “research.”
17. Meandering Half Price Books is “research.”
18. Half Price Books can sometimes be tax deductible.*
19. Writing goes with me, laptop or not.
20. Those missing chunks of time when Little Miss Muse and I are in complete sync.
21. Those moments when the characters speak so loudly that they take over the scene.
22. When the ideas fly so fast, the fingers can’t keep up.
23. Venting/planning/dreaming “in public” on this blog.
24. Planning/dreaming/plotting scenes when I’m stuck in boring social situations.
25. Little Miss’s muse-bomb-drops at three a.m.
26. Ah-Ha moments when a “stuck” character figures his own way out of his problem.
27. Obtaining a workable knowledge of a complicated-to-me program to publish the paperbacks.
28. Finding an amazing piece of advice and slapping it on the wall above my computer.
29. Replacing that amazing piece of advice with a new one when a cat tears the other one down.
30. Sending off half-a-dozen short stories at once to publications that might like them.
31. Personal rejection letters from publications that “never give personal rejection letters, but...”
32. Acceptance letters.
33. Finding contributor copies in the mail.
34. Finding checks in the mail.
35. The little bar graph growing on the sales reports.
36. Comic Conventions count as research and are possibly tax-deductible.
37. The thrill of that first professional sale.
38. The thrill of the second professional sale.
39. And the next…
40. Being asked to be in an anthology out of the clear blue sky.
41. Red marks and purple Post-Its on my drafts mean my proofreader saved me embarrassments.
42. I love my first readers and their eye for even more embarrassing blunders.
43. I love all my readers.
44. My Web Guy relieves me of tech-y-ish duties that I’d likely screw up.
45. Creating a character that makes me laugh.
46. Creating a character that gives me nightmares.
47. Creating Little Miss Muse (though she believes she’s always been).
48. Chasing Little Miss.
49. Bribing Little Miss.
50. Sourcing grape-flavored bubble gum and purple high-heels for Little Miss.
51. Stocking up on Little Miss’s bottle rockets, sparklers, and lighter fluid.
52. Begging Little Miss to let me sleep one more hour before she begins her playtime.
53. Returning to the keyboard after a “life roll.”
54. Making publishing to-do lists longer than this list.
55. Marking off those tasks in great sweeping chunks.
56. Brainstorming titles.
57. Listening to writer podcasts.
58. Reading other authors’ blogs.
59. Loving some podcasts/blogs enough to schedule them in my calendar.
60. Taking online writing classes that kick my butt.
61. Watching Little Miss laugh herself stupid that the writing class kicked my butt.
62. Conquering 30 short stories in 30 days.
63. Conquering 52 short stories in 52 weeks.
64. Writing that first novel.
65. The elbow to the ribs when something funny happens and a friend declares “Story fodder!”
66. “You should write about that” comments after every comical/dramatic/untoward real-life event.
67. Smiling, knowing I’ll never “write about that.”
68. Two-hour Facetime calls to France to discuss life and publishing.
69. Sharing a table of contents in a professional publication with people I’ve met.
70. Watching other author friends have great success.
71. Cheering on other author friends in their goals.
72. Making the 20th “NO, Just DON’T” do-not-disturb sign for my door when I’m writing.
73. Turning down social events to sit alone in a room and make stuff up.
74. Making stuff up in the sunroom with the windows open.
75. Making stuff up under the giant maple tree in the front yard.
76. Making stuff up at someone else’s house while I dog/cat/plant sit.
77. Being okay with liking unicorns because it’s “inspirational” and “research.”
78. Being okay with liking all things ‘80’s child because it’s “research.”
79. Being okay with talking out loud to myself… *ahem* I mean to Little Miss.
80. Enjoying the giant framed Big Bird on my office wall because he’s imagination inspiration.
81. Ditto on the imagination fodder for the framed: Ewok,
82. Kermit, Willy Wonka,
83. The tiny blue embroidered bunny patch from my deceased grandmother’s jewelry box,
84. ET, and Gizmo.
85. Turning a 25-cent, ten-inch-tall Wonder Woman cut-out into a meaningful blog post.
86. Turning mower lines, ducks, cat toys, and banana stickers into meaningful blog posts.
87. Being better at something than I am at cooking. Much, much better.
88. Being better at something than I am at cleaning house and fashion choices.
89. Being okay with sucky fashion because that’s my “work uniform.”
90. Respecting the amount of work that goes into any published book.
91. My name is now floating around somewhere in the Library of Congress database. Ha!
92. Finding story inspiration at the bottom of the kitchen utensil drawer.
93. Finding story inspiration in a stranger’s landscaping.
94. Finding story inspiration in a funeral home museum.
95. Those moments where I have to stop a chore and go write down that “aha” moment.
96. The moment I realize I never went back to that chore.
97. The look on someone’s face when they don’t believe I really write, then I hand them my novel.
98. Having to set the timer to get up and stretch because the writing “stretch” is going so well.
99. Showering Little Miss with praise and adoration for providing #98.
And, #100: Not to be insulted, neglected or otherwise outdone by any other item on this list (even though I believe she was credited and mentioned an appropriate number of times), I love my Little Miss Muse in all her purple, glittery glory. Where would I be without her?
(And that got her out of the pouting pose. She’s putting the lighter away, and her chubby rump is wriggling with excitement… I sense we’re about to go on an adventure!)
In the meantime, she sends violet glitter-caked high-fives and hopes you all—whether writers or golfers or violinists or professional banana-sticker collectors—find a hundred little reasons to celebrate the joys in life.
*I am not a tax accountant. So… don’t try to tax-deduct your own hobby/fetish/fun-time expenses without consulting a professional…