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 New Year Me Resolution

I do not believe or participate in New Year’s resolutions as a general rule. In the cynical playground of my thought process, New Year’s resolutions are things to be mocked, ridiculed and/or used as a source of humor. Case in point, this year I was invited to ring in 2015 with my cousin Tana and her husband Cody. As I was driving to their house, I vowed that this year I would make a concentrated effort to be less of a snarky bitch. Three seconds later I was yelling obscenities at the car in the next lane. Naturally, I shared this little anecdote of the “Shortest Lived Resolution Ever” with my cousins as soon as possible. We all had a good laugh and promptly moved on with our evening. It never occurred to any of us that this was a resolution I would keep, or even try to.

New Year’s resolutions are stupid. By their very name they require that those participating must wait until an arbitrary point in time to begin changing those things in life that they would like to. It’s idiotic. If it’s the middle of June and you want to lose weight, don’t wait until January 1st. Don’t start a countdown mentality of, “Damn, I can only eat the things I love for seven more months. Come January it’s all celery, all the time!” That’s setting yourself up for failure in my opinion. It’s the dietary equivalent of the doomsday clock. And when people inevitable fail to uphold those resolutions? Well, it’s easy to brush them off with a “better luck next year.” So yes, I find New Year’s resolutions stupid and a good source of fodder my humor cannon.

Here is something that’s not funny: using humor and cynicism as an excuse to be lazy. It’s just as stupid as the whole New Year’s thing. So here’s a better idea:

Let’s cut out the ‘New Year’ and stick to the most important part: resolution. Instead of letting my cynicism rule everything in my life, I resolve to do something that will make me happy. Something that will make me feel good and maybe even better my life as a result. And I’m going to start immediately. I’m not going to wait for another New Year, as I’ve already missed this one. I’m not going to wait for a new month, new week or even a new day. I’m starting right now.

I resolve to no longer be lazy. I have been lazy for a very long time, it needs to end.

In May of 2014, I graduated with a master’s degree in creative writing. My final writing project was, and remains, something I am very proud of. Despite frequent and enthusiastic encouragement from my master’s advisor to submit my story to literary magazines for publishing, I held off. Why? Because I was lazy. Because I had to write a cover letter to go with my story and that would take time and effort. I kept meaning to get around to it but there were too many other things to do first. I had to finish all my final papers, then I had to graduate. I had to look for a job. I had to keep looking for a job. I was depressed over my lack of employment then over my lack of decent employment. I needed to get out of my own head and finish the next episode of Veronica Mars. The world would not end if I waited until tomorrow. There is always tomorrow. Before I knew it, seven months had gone by. Finally, I spent some time kicking my own ass over time wasted and sent out my story.

Seven months after graduating, I finally landed a job as a writer/editor for a small publishing company.

I spend my days writing dozens of press releases and the occasional longer article. I love my job. I’m more grateful than I will ever be able to express that I’m no longer stuck in a temporary, ass-numbingly dull state office job where I spent most of my days struggling not to fall asleep (Seriously? It’s no wonder our state is in debt up to our eyeballs if they keep paying temp agencies ridiculous wages so their temps can sit around and be bored. I won’t start on how much of that ridiculous wage I never saw. That’s a whole other bitter rant). Back to my original point…

In the near year that I was not submitting my story, I was also dragging my feet on my other works in progress. In the months since I have graduated, care to guess how much creative writing I’ve accomplished? Very little. That’s not to say that I don’t want to write. I think about writing every day. I think about my stories and my characters every day. I have ideas. And outlines. And character descriptions/profiles. I have small chunks of prose written on random Post-it notesand stuck into my designated writing notebook. But actual sentences on a page?

I have more excuses than actual writing:

I can’t work on my novel, I have to find a job. I can’t work on my story, I have to find a better job. I have too many jobs and am too tired to write. I only have a little bit of free time, I’d rather watch Netflix. I’m too depressed to write. I have to curl up in a dark hole and fixate on all the things I’m not doing/doing wrong in life.

I am in no way making light of depression or any form of mental illness. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. I will admit, however, that too often I use my depression as an excuse to hide rather than doing anything to try and work through it. Ironic considering my writing was always my one outlet for the miasma of emotions that I have no idea how to handle otherwise.

I would say I’ve just grown lazy; however, that implies I was ever not. The truth is, I’ve always been lazy when it comes to my writing and my past successes have done little to encourage a change of habit. For instance, the first draft of the story that would turn into my master’s project was highly praised by the professor who would become my master’s advisor. He stated it was an honest and powerful piece that I had obviously spent a lot of time on. Wrong. I tossed the idea around in my head for several weeks before finally churning it out the day before it was due. Nor did I bother to do much in the way of  proofreading/editing before turning it in for workshop critique (also ironic considering mysevere anxiety regarding workshops. One might think I would want to turn in the very best, most polished work I could in hopes of combating my own feelings of inadequacy. One would think. But I was too lazy.).

The second draft of that same story won 1st place in the graduate creative writing awards. The fifth draft netted the honor of “Master’s Distinction”, something very few receive. In fact, only two other projects received distinction that year, both of which were critical pieces rather than creative writing pieces.

I’m not going to lie or practice false self-deprecation here. I have talent, lots of it. Talent that is being thoroughly wasted. Whatever skill I might have is dwarfed by the massive amounts of self-doubt, self-criticism, depression and laziness that I allow to get in the way.

So here is my attempt to overcome. Forget the ‘new year.’ I’m simply making a resolution to write. Every week, at least once a week. Now, every successful writer I’ve met or even heard of adamantly proclaims that you need to write every day in order to get better. I agree. Unfortunately, at this time in my life I’m working two jobs in order to make ends meet. Damn those student loans. Some days I go directly from one job to the other. So unless I want to give up sleeping (which I don’t), or I only want to commit to a few crappy lines every day that I put very little thought or effort into (and I don’t), every day is not realistic for me at this time. Someday it will be. Right now I can manage at least once a week, often more, of devoted writing time. Which is a good start for someone who used to go months without touching pen to paper.

So here is my New Me Resolution: Just Fucking Write. Starting Now.

By Brittany Willes