Wow, what a winter break of revisions it’s been! I am proud to say I mostly stuck to the plan I made in December. Starting with an idea of what changes I wanted to make to a story helped keep me from getting (too) overwhelmed when I sat down to work–and I did sit down to work. Almost every day, sometimes for 5 minutes, sometimes for more than an hour. As a result, I’ve revised 6 of the 7 stories I plan to include in The Book and am considering adding an eighth to the collection, if I can get it done in time.

I’ve also been thinking about the fact that, more than in any other semester, this year’s break has been a sign for what Life After School might be like, writing on my own momentum, fueled by my own desire to put out the best stories I can. It’s changed my mind about my goals for writing this year.

It’s always mystified me to hear people talk of a deep “need” to write, as though their sanity hinges on it. You know that stereotypical artist’s parent who’s contemptuous of the child for not having a “real” career? That’s been me. I don’t like to admit writing can be fun, even when I do it in my spare time, even after I have a good session and my story’s all I can talk about for the next hour. It’s starting to seem ridiculous to keep this grudge against what I do around.

This year, instead of resolving to write every day, churn out a set number of stories, hit time or word goals, or meet similar numerical quotas, I want to accomplish something I imagine will be more rewarding and lasting: I want to take my relationship with writing to the next level. I pledge to do my best to remember that writing is fun and fulfilling, and to approach my laptop at the end of the day with a welcoming spirit. I promise to use quantifiable goals and quotas as tools to encourage me to write, not an end in and of themselves. Most importantly, I promise to keep going after my grad program is over, even if no one’s reading. Sooner or later, if I put joy and work into it, someone will.

It’s been a busy week. I’m taking on another big book at work and copyediting it myself. It’s cool because the book is about neuropsychology, which is at least tangentially in my field (Media Culture was half psychology). It’s stressful because the book is over 1100 pages and it’s on a tight turnaround. Today was mostly editing references.

Sometimes I have weeks where I feel like I’m getting lots done, but not going anywhere. Today would have been one of those weeks. I can dismiss what I do during the day job as being a separate category from the personal goals I set for myself. I haven’t been to the gym in weeks because I’ve been exhausted, and it’s frustrating to think I’m at least appearing to be the out-in-February failed-resolution crowd. I got the last piece of homework done in class as the professor was setting up.

But what I’m really proud of is that even if a lot of other things felt rushed or missing this week, and even if it was only one day, I wrote this week. Even though I was tired last night, I ended up finishing some homework early, so I pulled up my story, and made it to the end. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, either. There are some vague moments that could get teased out more and a paragraph or two that I’m not sure I’ll keep, but I like the concept of it and the way my experiment is paying off. It’s my little triumph of the week, finishing an edit on that story, so even though my shoulders are sore from sitting in this office chair all day, I am feeling good, heading into the weekend.