I’m anti-resolution, but that’s no surprise to anybody. I do, however, have plans.
I’m going to keep a journal. Not a “Dear Diary” kind of thing where I put my hopes and fears. I don’t have hopes and fears. I have cravings and exasperations. Just a book that I write something in every day, even if all I say is “Screw Thursdays, they never turn out well for me.” I used to try this every year when I’d get one of those faux leather jobs with the lock and key that kids in the sixties got all the time, and I never made it past January before I quit, but I was twelve. I’m pretty sure I can make to February this time.
I’m going to rearrange my office which has never worked right. This will mean tearing out stuff I built, but since I built it, it’ll probably fall off the wall the minute I start taking screws out, so that’s a plus. Also, I’m putting casters on all my furniture. I like furniture that rolls. So much easier to clean under.
I’m going to clean, too.
I’m going to write a book on art fraud. I’m doing the research now and it’s helping tremendously on two different books–Courtney”s and Nadine’s–so that’s fun. I wish I hadn’t named Courtney “Courtney.” For some reason, I’m having a hard time getting her right in my head which is death because I’m a heroine-centric writer. Both of those books hit a wall because I couldn’t figure out the plots. Turns out, I just needed a refresher on art crime.
I’m going to take Milton for walks. He needs them desperately and so do I, no matter how much I don’t like them. I used to like running five miles a day, so I figure I can get hooked on walking again. Then do short walks with Mona (no kneecaps) and Veronica (shortest legs in the history of dog) and we’ll all feel better. I’ve been thinking I couldn’t because it’s just too cold in the winter (asthma) but it was 65 on Christmas Day here, so that argument’s pretty feeble. Also, Milton really, really, really needs the exercise. He’s so thrilled every time I go near the front door and he damn near has a heart attack every time I put a leash on him. Then he goes to the vet. It’s just not fair. He’s a good little dog and he should be allowed to pee up and down the road at will. Also there’s a lifesize statue of a deer about twelve houses down that fools him every time, and he has a marvelous time barking at it. Simple pleasures.
I’m going to blog about premise, the Sleeping Ninja trope, structure for the Writing/Romance blog, and Disney princesses. And I’m going to clear out the Argh draft folder. I have 157 draft posts, most of which are completely inane and worthless or I’d have posted them.
Speaking of clearing out drafts, I have fifty-four unfinished crochet projects. It’s definitely Frog or Finish time. My plan is to either finish or frog (unravel and reclaim the yarn) one a week. Also, I need to use up some of this yarn, so I’m going Cold Sheepish, which means I’m going to stop buying yarn, mostly. I’ve tried going completely Cold Sheep, but that’s too much of a resolution. Also impossible. I’m not giving up chocolate, either. Are you insane? Why would you completely give up something you love? Jeez.
Speaking of unfinished, I have six unfinished novels. Pick a lane, Jenny.
And then there’s the house. I’d really like a ceiling in my bedroom. And a new septic system. Finish a book, Jenny.
The important thing about all of this stuff is that none of it is a resolution. A resolution is “I will.” A plan is “This is what I think I might do, but that could change.” Resolutions are orders, plans are directions to head in. Resolutions hang over your head, heavy and dull like the stones they’re set in; plans flit about the room on wings of possibilities, morphing in flight. There’s a reason “Change of plans” is a common phrase and “Change of resolutions” is not.
So my goal for 2016 is to stay fluid and unpredictable, changing my plans as life shifts and billows. Change is good, resolutions are bad, nothing but good times ahead.
So what are your fluid, changeable, exciting plans for 2016? I don’t want to hear any crap about losing weight or working harder; tell us the stuff you’re looking forward to, all of which is subject to change because you, too, are fluid and unpredictable and free from self-flagellation over ridiculous goals that seem like a good idea in January but stink after three days.
Also, don’t join a gym.