IWSG July 2020 - A Do Over

It's IWSG Day. The goal of this blog hop is to share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds. IWSG is the brainchild of Alex Cavanaugh. To find links to other IWSG contributors, click here. A big thank you to July Co-hosts: Jenni Enzor, Beth Camp, Liesbet, Tyrean Martinson, and Sandra Cox!

This month's optional question: There have been many industry changes in the last decade, so what are some changes you would like to see happen in the next decade?

 

Confession? I wrote a post in answer to this month’s question, but it wasn’t a good one, nor was my answer enlightening. In fact, my topic sounded more like sour grapes than anything else…which isn't how I really feel, so I decided to scrap it. Unfortunately, it leaves me lacking in ideas for a July post. For reasons regular readers might guess, lately my writing has been sporadic. To jog myself a bit, I re-read some of my (very) old IWSG posts, and found one I'd written during the 2012 Olympics. Perhaps it will give me impetus to move forward now.

I am never NOT amazed by the dedication of these athletes—the focus of the sixteen-year-old competing in her first Olympics, the twenty-one-year-old (virtual antique) competing in his second.  Many of these contestants continue to compete on the world scene for a few more years before they move on to develop entirely new careers.  After a point, I suppose, they have to. Once they age, the synapses don’t fire fast enough. Before they know it, each former superstar is eclipsed by someone younger and faster.  No matter how hard they work, age will catch up.

That’s the good news from where I sit.  Because, while the writing muscle demands exercise, it doesn’t have to get old. It probably isn’t a surprise to anyone reading this that I am sitting solidly astride middle age. Yet, when I look back at a blog post from three years ago, or an essay I wrote five years ago, it’s clear I am a better writer now, by far.  All my “practicing” over the past several years has yielded measurable improvement. I don’t have to retire due to age-related injuries. As long as I can situate myself in front of a screen, I can keep going, optimistic that in spite of my wealth of grey hair, I am still going to get better.

A friend of mine posted a Facebook tribute to his mother on her birthday last week.  It said something like: ‘My Mom turns 82 today.  She is strong and spends her days writing fiction, walking and keeping active.’  I tell you, I love watching all the Olympic medal winners. But if someone says something like that about me when I turn 82, it will feel fourteen-karat enough to me.

That last statement still stands, so I guess I better get writing.

What are your thoughts on this month's question? And what do you do to keep writing when life does all it can to distract you?