On the New Year and Resolutions

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on January 3, 2010 at 5:45 PM

Happy New Year!

I’m a big believer in resolutions. I don’t think there’s anything magical or sacred about the New Year; I think it’s a reminder. An annual reminder that goals are an important part of life. For me, it’s a chance to take the time to step back, examine my progress, and decide where I want to go from there. All year long I’m conscious of what I want; often, I don’t follow through and promise myself to do it until New Year’s Eve.

This year, my main resolution is pretty obvious: I want to be published. Technically, my goal for myself is to be under contract or published in at least one way. Poetry, short story, novel, whatever. Published or on the way there. It’s happening. This year. I can feel it.

I think the trick to setting successful New Year’s resolutions is to make them long-term goals. I could tell myself that I’m going to sit down and write for an hour a day every day no matter what, but the chances are pretty good that I would mess that up within a short period of time and consider my resolution blown for the whole year. Then where’s the motivation to try to keep it up? If my resolution is the ultimate goal, that leaves me room for error. I can have little blips and still succeed, making me less likely to give up.

The hubby’s resolution? He wants to be able to run a marathon by the end of the year. He’s following along my same principal: promising himself that he’ll work out every day or whatever won’t last, but training for the ultimate goal should get him healthy and in shape, just like he wants. Pretty smart, huh?

So what’s your resolution? It’s not too late to make one for 2010. I think it’s a year of change and stability, two seemingly conflicting ideas that fit together quite nicely. Just don’t forget… think long-term and make it achievable. Here are some great quotations about risk, resolution, and success to inspire you:

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.”
–T. S. Eliot

“Always bear in mind that your own resolution to success is more important than any other one thing.”
–Abraham Lincoln

But my favorite one, that is now on my office window with my resolution, is this:
“We will either find a way or make one.”
–Hannibal

I resolve to be under contract or published by 2011.

I will either find a way or make one.

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NOW we can all start celebrating Christmas!

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on November 29, 2009 at 7:15 PM

Last night I decorated inside, and today Kyle and I put up lights outside. It really took me back to my childhood, with my dad cursing grumpily about the strands that were fine until he’d already wrapped them around the column or whatever and then go out. Find the loose bulb! And of course, you have to match up the male and female ends of the strands ahead of time if you don’t go in order, assuring at least one “redo” per project. Ah, the holiday spirit.

A lot of people spend an inordinate amount of time trying to be happy. They read self-help books, do things that are supposed to make them happy, seek out particular people, jobs, etc. They take medicines, go to shrinks, try to puzzle out what’s wrong. Why aren’t they happy? Call me crazy, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not being happy. I mean, if you’re never happy, that’s a different story that probably does need treatment of some kind, but just because you’re not predominantly happy doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It just means the world demands an unrealistic degree of happiness.

There’s a lot to be happy and sad about for me these days. I’m incredibly stressed, and I still feel overwhelmed by grief sometimes. But I also have a lot to be thankful for, and a lot that does make me happy. Sometimes it’s hard bouncing back and forth, but I’ve decided that I’d rather do that than ignore them both and be numb all of the time. Numb’s okay too, by the way. Sometimes. Like when your wedding is three weeks away, you miss your dad, and you have too much to do to look forward to fun all of the time. Numb is good.

But putting up lights made me happy in a melancholy way. I (maybe due to being a poet?) have a knack for enjoying “negative” emotions as well. I can find a certain type of joy in being sad. Bittersweet, perhaps, to have fond memories of my dad, but that’s better than all bad ones. Or no memories at all. So when Kyle dropped a fairly shocking string of obscenities when he realized he’d flipped a strand and stapled it up, I could only smile. I was cursing under my breath, too, at the stupid metal stakes along the sidewalk, and hadn’t realized how funny it was until he did it too. I mean, it’s not really Christmas until someone drops the F-bomb.

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A Room of One’s Own

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on November 19, 2009 at 5:48 PM

Virginia Woolf wrote a famous essay called “A Room of One’s Own,” in which she argues that women can be as exceptional as men in the writing of fiction if the playing field is leveled. She proposes that if Shakespeare had an equally talented sister, she still would not have been able to produce magnificent writing like his unless she had been allowed money and a room of her own in which to create art.

I personally think Shakespeare, like Elvis, is somewhat overrated (despite his skill), but I agree with what she argues in concept. In a time when women were not considered the equals of men in any field, she stepped up to argue that they should be. As far as writing fiction goes, I don’t think that stigma exists in quite the same way anymore. Perhaps, only, in literary fiction—such as would be studied in a classroom. Men still dominate that field, whether through chance, oppression, or skill, I’m not sure. I do think, though, that women can equal them if given an equal chance… money and a room of one’s own in which to write. Essentially: the luxury to take time away from everything else considered a woman’s duty and sit down to create a masterpiece.

That’s what I’m trying to do. I’ve been put in a circumstance in which I can knock out time for my goals, unlike so many people both male and female. I have the money needed to focus on writing, and I have a house with a room dedicated as my “office.” That’s so much more than most aspiring writers have, and in that way, I know that I am “lucky” or “blessed,” although these circumstances came about in an undesirable way.

To take advantage of the opportunity is harder than you might think. Even now, eighty years after Virginia Woolf’s essay, I still feel the societal pressures that dictate what I should do. And thankfully, they are not so much gender-driven as age-driven, and certainly not personal. But no matter how determined one may be, and how dedicated to one’s dreams, it’s hard to swim against the stream for so long. My fins are getting tired!

I’m going to keep chugging along, though, because in the end I know that’s the right thing for me to do. I would never be happy with myself if I didn’t take these chances, no matter the outcome. So I take a moment to acknowledge both the advantage and the struggle to use it, and keep on writing.

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Being Seduced

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on November 9, 2009 at 2:26 PM

Like the last blog, sometimes I have to go all out to lure the muse out of her hiding places. But sometimes, she approaches me with the sort of intolerant determinedness of a siren. No no’s, only yes. Only writing allowed. Sometimes, she does this at absurd, unforgivable hours, such as 3am. But with a muse like mine, you go with it.

How to describe that creative rush to someone who’s never felt it before? For me, it starts off as a disquietude. I feel unsatisfied and antsy, like I need to go work out or have sex. But it’s not that, although at times it feels almost physical. It’s more than that, and doing other things only delays it, not appeases it. This is the “percolating” process, where I have the seed of some idea but it hasn’t formed yet. I know it’s good, but it can’t be written. I let it grow in the back of my mind.

At some point the idea takes hold. I don’t usually do this part consciously. I imagine that this is why bards and writers of the olden days used to accredit things they produced to a muse or divine inspiration. It’s almost as if I don’t come up with the ideas. They sew themselves in the spongy matter of my brain without my doing. All I do is allow myself to be open and receptive to them, no matter how outrageous or bizarre they may seem.

Eventually, the idea is ready to go. Often, I don’t realize it right away. I’m busy with the rest of my life and don’t have time to sit down and write. Sometimes I do. But usually, the idea keeps growing, keeps gaining momentum like some impossible snowball in my head until it’s too big to fit. Until it give me headaches. Until I absolutely can’t ignore it or put it off. Usually at 3am. Or when I’ve just lain down to go to sleep.

Then it hits me. Undeniable. I try not to fight it anymore; I just sit up, tell Kyle to put on his blinder thingy, turn on the lamp, and go. I always keep a pen and notepad in my nightstand for this reason. You never know. If the muse is in the mood, I’ve got to be ready. In the past, I let that creative rush blossom in my head and think that there’s no way I’ll forget this. This is too good not to remember tomorrow. I’m too tired to get up and write. I never remember it the next day. That’s heartbreaking, let me tell you. So now I give in. Allow myself to be seduced, if you will.

Because as one of the folks in my critique group says, you never rewrite anything you write at 3am.

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All Hallows’ Evening for a month

Posted on September 22, 2011 by Annie Neugebauer

Originally posted on October 4, 2009 at 4:16 PM

Halloween is by far my favorite time of year. I know, it’s supposed to be Christmas or my birthday, but hey, that’s me. Some of the happiest times of my life were Halloweens when I was a kid with our best friends. And oh, the decorations. The costumes. The planning, the mischief. The candy! How could anyone NOT like Halloween?

Halloween stems from a meshing of cultural holidays and beliefs. Ancient Celts in Ireland used to have a festival called Samhain that celebrated the end of the harvest season. Wiccans celebrate a similar event, honoring the Harvest’s end. Celtics used this time to take stock of what crops and goods they’d gathered for the winter. Wiccans use this time, now, to acknowledge the things they’ve “harvested” in that year: success, love, money, goals achieved, etc. For both, it’s a time to step back and say, “Hey, look at all I’ve done. That’s pretty neat.” (Or, perhaps, “I need to try harder next year.” I think this is a wonderful thing for anyone to do, Wiccan or not.

Ancient Celts believed that on Halloween the dead could interact with the living again, providing the potential for danger and crop damage. This is where the traditions of bonfires, costumes, and masks come from. To ward off those harmful, evil dead. I would think that not all dead are evil, but perhaps since all dead can interact with the living, the evil ones do bad things while they can.

In mainland Europe, Halloween was for pagans until the popes stepped in, god bless them (haha), and decided to move the Christian All Saints Day to November 1. This was a very smart, sneaky way that Christians of yore had of reclaiming pagan celebrations for the church. Many of our current Christian holidays resulted from this practice, and thus many pagan traditions have been enveloped in US celebrations of holidays. Eventually, All Saints’ Day and Samhain blended, resulting in the generally Christian-friendly Halloween that we all know and love. Neat, huh?

This Halloween is a calm one, for me. An honest mix of melancholy and joy. To have a home, a fiancé, a kitten, and so many wonderful things makes me undeniably happy. Going through my Dad’s Halloween decorations makes me miss him, makes me sad, makes me nostalgic. I’m at the point in my life now that I don’t feel the need to put every Halloween decoration I own out. Just some favorites. It seems right that way, somehow. Maybe someday when we have kids they’ll want to go crazy with it. I certainly hope they like Halloween as much as I do.

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