And Then I Didn't Feel So Bad
April 11, 1998
8:33 a.m.
 Sometimes things seem to drag on forever. It took me three days, but I finally finished the rewrite of "The Dragon Hunt of Kayala Silversmith"--recently retitled "The Last Heartstone" (a title that is much more fitting, and that I think I like). It took three days to critique stuff that I had planned for a day. I'm still waiting for Martin Crumpton's rewrite of "The Well of Waiting Souls." Bottom line--I'm a week behind on my April plan. Now, an astute person would note that the real problem was probably an unrealistic plan. But that isn't the point of this little rant. The point here is that there just isn't enough time to get things done, and when there is a little time something else always seems to vie for attention. You know . . . the cat needs to be let in, or the mail needs to be retrieved, or the lawn needs mowing. Life conspires against the busy. I've got at least three more stories--totally plotted out--that I want to write. Ten or so stories sit on my hard drive waiting to go to the mailbox, and one more needs a small rewrite before I ship it again (thanks to some fine comments by Stan Schmidt). I've got to rearrange my filing system to make room. My surge protector is flickering, telling me to get off my duff and pick up another one before it gives up the ghost. We're in the middle of a total team replan at work. I'm trying to learn DHTML. Three books sit on my nightstand in various stages of completion. I'm behind in reading my SF magazines--keeping up with the competition, as it were. Which do I focus on? How can I pick one over any of the others? They're all interesting, or important, or urgent, or intriguing, or whatever. If you have answers, I'm all ears. Until I hear a better suggestion, I'll just ride out the wave--let the white caps crash around me, try to enjoy each moment of the work without getting too uptight (yeah, right). And I'll try to remember what's important. Yesterday I had the day off. I went to Brigid's school at the end of the day to pick her up. Walking through the classroom, I found one of the other girls' mother and asked where Brigid was. "She's out there somewhere," the woman replied, pointing out the window. But she hadn't needed to. At that moment, I saw Brigid. She was outside in the springtime sunshine. She's tall and thin, like her mother. And when my eyes first set on her, she was spinning around like a top . . .  ... her arms flung out wide ...... and her hair whipping around. I couldn't help but smile. And then it didn't seem so bad to be me. Have a happy Easter, everyone.  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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"While Ockham's Razor is a useful reminder that you shouldn't make your life (or anybody else's) unnecessarily complicated, neither should we forget its corollary: Don't be afraid to let entities multiply to the extent that is necessary. Given multiple possibilities, it isn't always necessary to "Pick Just One"--and sometimes you can't." Stan Schmidt |
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