…begins with looking up your destination on the Internet. No, wait…
….begins with putting gas in your car–no….
…begins with a single step. There. That’s the cliche. And like so many cliches, it’s got a powerful truth at its core beyond the tasty, crunchy fortune cookie in which it is wrapped.
I, like most people, occasionally get intimidated by things that Life, the wench, likes to throw at me. I know that may seem hard to believe, considering the fact that I kept trying for seven dry, frustrating years to break into publishing, and I’m closing in on my 50th novel. But it’s true.
We have all heard of Fight or Flight, but there’s a third option: Freeze. I tend to freeze.
Like, with this blog, for instance. In mid-June I was visiting friends in Colorado. Over the kitchen table, my dear friend William S. “Stan” Kirby and I drank fine alcohol and shook our heads over this thing called “being a writer.” Not writing–we’ve got that part–but “being a writer.” It involves blogging, and tweeting, and Facebooking, and being Out There, and we are introverts. So we made a pact to get a blog up at least every other week. He beat me to it, check out http://www.wskirby.com for a great essay on vampires.
I whimpered and whined and said, “But deadline” and “But China trip” and “but laundry”–all of which are valid reasons! Really! But I took a small step, and here I am, typing away.
Another small step I took was literal. Stan and I went for a walk while I was visiting–a short little jaunt. It reminded me of how much I enjoy walks in nature. So when I got home, I went for a mile walk in the morning to a local park. I liked it. A lot. I’ve gone just about every morning since.
I’m drinking more water. And doing yoga. And that laundry–I’m getting to it. It’s pretty cool.
I’ve made some teeny steps in other areas, that led to bolder ones. You lace up your virtual shoes, walk out your metaphor of a door, and who knows where you’ll end up.
Drop me a postcard when you get there. Or at least tweet me, okay?