Despite all my best attempts, time continues to move independent of my wishes. I asked for 36-hour days, and it ignored me. I asked for a quick 2-hour pause for writing in the afternoons, and it ignored me. I asked it to let me stay 21, and it ignored me. TWICE.
So here I am. 23!!
And, lo! This birthday falls within the Week of Post-Editing Debauchery, so that’s promising.
Between last birthday and this one:
I sold my first book.
I finished another, the first in a series.
I started a third.
I traveled around the country.
I applied to MFA programs a bit last minute, and got universally rejected (in the end def. for the best).
I joined the YA Rebels.
I went to my first conference (SCBWI).
I saw my agent and met my editor.
I helped host an auction.
I made some AMAZING new friends.
I survived 9.5 months of edits.
I don’t know. It’s *not* that I feel underwhelmed. I mean, check out that list, not bad for one year! But *something* was missing during Victoria v.22. I let life happen TO me.
I used to have this idea that the length of my journal entry at the end of the day was an indicator of whether or not I was LIVING enough. If I could sum the day up in only a few sentences, I needed to DO more. I think there were too many short journal entries. I want to do more living.
So, it’s with that idea that I set forth. I don’t know how one sets out to LIVE more, but I’ll try. I have a list of things I’d like to accomplish as 23-year-old Victoria, and I’ve worked in a lot of space for change, and for surprises, and for adventure 🙂 I just have to be bold enough to take the risk.