I can feel you cringing as you anticipate a barrage of insipid platitudes, clichéd adages, and trite expressions like “don’t back the wrong horse,” “get off your high horse” and “don’t spare the horses." But have no fear. There will be no motivational life lessons about trying your best, being graceful in victory, or learning from failure.
Why?
Because I don’t identify with Orb or Verrazano or any of the horses who crossed the finish line. I’m feeling the pain of Black Onyx, the horse who had to withdraw from the race at the last minute due to a fracture in his ankle. Oh, the bitter disappointment after preparing for months--nay, years—only to have the finish line in sight and be forced to turn and hobble away. I, too, suffered such a loss last week. After setting my sites on finishing my novel, my hopes were dashed and my dream was yanked from under me like the proverbial horsehair rug.
Well, that may be overstating it just a tad.
Because I don’t identify with Orb or Verrazano or any of the horses who crossed the finish line. I’m feeling the pain of Black Onyx, the horse who had to withdraw from the race at the last minute due to a fracture in his ankle. Oh, the bitter disappointment after preparing for months--nay, years—only to have the finish line in sight and be forced to turn and hobble away. I, too, suffered such a loss last week. After setting my sites on finishing my novel, my hopes were dashed and my dream was yanked from under me like the proverbial horsehair rug.
Well, that may be overstating it just a tad.
The truth is, I had to take week off from the computer because of tennis elbow. Granted it was both elbows, but still not a tragedy of Kentucky Derby proportion.
The real tragedy was that I’d just come off a victory, having met my goal of sending a partial manuscript submission to “Agent A.” I’d hoped to keep that momentum, and I’d set high-but-achievable goals that would propel me toward the next big milestone: sending a full manuscript to “Agent B.”
Alas my elbows did not permit me to meet those goals. Instead I sat all week with idle hands watching the Kentucky Derby, sappy movies, and entire seasons of past TV shows.
“So why are you telling me this?” you may ask. “What’s the lesson in this?”
There’s not a lesson in this, Dear Reader. There are several.
There’s not a lesson in this, Dear Reader. There are several.
LESSON ONE: There are applicable adages for every situation. Many involve horses, but a fair number involve cats, pigs, chickens and apple carts.
LESSON TWO: Sometimes you have to walk away so you can return to fight another day (which is the applicable adage for my situation this week, in case the segue was too subtle).
LESSON TWO: Sometimes you have to walk away so you can return to fight another day (which is the applicable adage for my situation this week, in case the segue was too subtle).
LESSON THREE: Hats are awesome.
LESSON FOUR: Some racehorses have really creative names:
Gimcrack, Search Engine, Redundantredundant, Acid Reflux,
Elbow Beach, Sensible Shoes, Quack, Semi True Story,
Senior Discount, Reduced Sentence, Snail, Atswhatimtalknbout.
LESSON FIVE: There are strict rules governing the naming of racehorses,
including limiting a name to only eighteen characters.
LESSON SIX: “Eighteencharacters” is the registered name of a racehorse.
The name “Eighteen Characters” would have been disqualified for containing nineteen characters (spaces count).
LESSON SEVEN: It’s virtually impossible to go a whole week (nay, a whole day) without using a computer; it must have really sucked to live in pioneer times when computers were so scarce.
LESSON FOUR: Some racehorses have really creative names:
Gimcrack, Search Engine, Redundantredundant, Acid Reflux,
Elbow Beach, Sensible Shoes, Quack, Semi True Story,
Senior Discount, Reduced Sentence, Snail, Atswhatimtalknbout.
LESSON FIVE: There are strict rules governing the naming of racehorses,
including limiting a name to only eighteen characters.
LESSON SIX: “Eighteencharacters” is the registered name of a racehorse.
The name “Eighteen Characters” would have been disqualified for containing nineteen characters (spaces count).
LESSON SEVEN: It’s virtually impossible to go a whole week (nay, a whole day) without using a computer; it must have really sucked to live in pioneer times when computers were so scarce.
LESSON EIGHT: Sometimes you gotta bet on the longshot.
LESSON NINE: You can’t get blood from a stone, except in a fantasy novel (which has nothing to do with the Kentucky Derby, in case you’re keeping score).
LESSON TEN: If wishes were horses, my novel would be named Orb and I’d be in the winner’s circle draped in roses.
LESSON NINE: You can’t get blood from a stone, except in a fantasy novel (which has nothing to do with the Kentucky Derby, in case you’re keeping score).
LESSON TEN: If wishes were horses, my novel would be named Orb and I’d be in the winner’s circle draped in roses.
LESSON ELEVEN:
(I bet you thought I'd stop at ten, but eleven is my lucky number)
Not all hats are awesome.
So what’s the moral of this non-story?
It’s time to stop wishing, ice those elbows, put the idle hands where they belong and type up a new goal for this week!
NEW GOAL FOR THIS WEEK: Edit in short bursts to limit strain on elbows – specifically, edit for 30 minutes at a time, twice per day, Thursday through Monday.
NEXT STEPS: I have a “goals check-in” on Tuesday where I’ll report my progress on the above goal and set a new goal for the coming week.
I’ll report back on Wednesday to fill you in.
I know you can hardly stand the suspense, but
good things come to those who wait.
On second thought, why wait when you can create?
Get busy and make some goals of your own.
Yes, I mean you.
Post YOUR goals for the week here in the comments.
Bonus points for goals tendered in rhyme.
Brownie points for those in iambic pentameter.
I know you can hardly stand the suspense, but
good things come to those who wait.
On second thought, why wait when you can create?
Get busy and make some goals of your own.
Yes, I mean you.
Post YOUR goals for the week here in the comments.
Bonus points for goals tendered in rhyme.
Brownie points for those in iambic pentameter.