Hope And Hydrangeas

Tags

Cottage Life, Don't Quit, Dreams, Gardening, Goals, Hope, Publishing Journey, Writing

Hydrangeas. They’re one of my favorite flowers. They don’t smell, sadly, but they’re beautiful. They come in many different varieties and colors of pink and blue and white. I’ve longed to grow them for years, but in Bermuda it’s difficult, if not impossible. When we bought our place on the lake in Northern Ontario, I couldn’t wait to get started in the garden. At the beginning of every holiday, we’d trundle off to the nursery and fill the van with horticultural delights that one of us seemed far more excited by. Of course a stop at Tim Horton’s on the way home is always a great mood shifter.

I’d get stuck in that day or the next, digging fingers deep into damp, dark soil rich with possibility. I’d plant and think and ponder things, maybe hum a little. Gardening is not work when you’re doing it because it’s different. I don’t get to plant like that here at home. So I enjoy that time each year, when I sink into the ground, back aching, but oh so happy because I have accomplished what I set out to.

And then the deer come.

The first year this happened I was so angry I just wanted to cry. My garden, decimated. There went all my hours of hard work. We wouldn’t be around long enough to start over and wait for progress. So I fought back. I discovered deer repellent. A nasty bloody (literally) concoction that smell like S*&# (I was told to edit this but…it does). Worse actually. But it works. My flowers were saved and every year now, thanks to a few days of pungent odor that everyone puts up with because its better than me pitching a fit, I get to see them bloom. (I enjoy my cottage time so much I’m actually going to sulk now because this year we’re hardly going to be at the cottage at all. And I don’t want to think about what might be happening to my plants).

The point is, for a few years there…none of my hard work paid off. I battled deer and who knows what else, and my hydrangeas would either die or just sit there rather pathetically, waiting for a gold embossed invitation to bloom. Then, about two years ago, they got the hint. And they bloomed. Certainly I wouldn’t rank them up there with anything worthy of a Botanical Garden display, but for this island girl, used to sand and sea and salt, the sight of those flowers does something special to my soul.

I didn’t quit.

I wanted to. And it would have been easy. But I knew if I did, I’d never get the end result I wanted. I’d never get to revel in the beauty and satisfaction of the payoff.

Hard work’s like that, huh? You have to slog through to get the end result. Whether it’s gardening, painting, running or writing, whatever your goal is, you don’t get to the end and quit. You keep going. Pass that first goal and make another.

A friend asked me, some time ago now, why I wanted to be published. I had to think about the answer for a while. Truth be told, I’m still thinking about it. Because quitting, on any given day, still lurks in my mind. Quitting would be easy. Giving up on this dream…letting it go and getting on with something that makes more sense…sometimes seems tempting.

But I won’t. I can’t. Because I can see the end. It’s like this every time. When I reach the last half of a book, I stall out. Wonder why I ever started in the first place. Doubts come at night and try to steal the things I’ve worked so hard for. Like those deer at the cottage. I need some good repellent to chase them away.

Being published means putting my words out there. Words I’ve worked hard over. Toiled long hours, tested and tried and torn my hair out over at times, but in the end I know they have to count for something. Even if it’s only knowing that I finished. Knowing I reached the end and finished strong. Even if it’s only for me.

I hope it’s not. I long to share stories with readers who will resonate with what I have to say. Because that is my dream. To sit together on a starry night, watch the flickering flames, sip sweet wine and share stories. And know that the One who gives them to us is well pleased.

Dreams don’t die. If you put them up on a shelf, they don’t go anywhere. They merely sit and wait for the time you’re ready to pick them up again. And then, one day, maybe when you least expect it, they will bloom.

Shooting For The Moon…Or Somewhere In The General Vicinity.

Tags

Aspirations, Catherine West, Dreams, Goals, Life, Writing Journey

Do you remember what it was like to dream?

Remember laying on your back on a summer star-lit night, a warm wind caressing your cheeks, studying the sky and listening to the sound of your own heartbeat through the excitement charged darkness? Remember staring up at all those small shimmering stars, wondering how many there were, how many had your name on them?

One of my favorite Disney movies, Pinocchio, has that awesome song, “When You Wish Upon A Star..” remember?

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.

I’ve done a fair bit of wishing in my time. Wishing, dreaming, praying… Growing up, my parents would tell me I could be whatever I wanted to be, do whatever I wanted to do…anything you set your mind to… It’s a wonderful concept.

At some point, I stopped believing.

Let me explain.

While I still believe I can do some things, I know I can’t do all things. I know I’m not supposed to. It’s not my journey.

Dreams are wonderful, magical, and awe-inspiring. Not all dreams come true. And dreams carry with them the unfortunate reputation of being larger than life, surreal and never quite ‘all there’ if you will. Have you ever had what you thought was ‘a dream come true’, something you wanted very badly but never thought you’d get, and then you did. And it wasn’t quite what you expected.

It’s like being a kid on Christmas morning. You wait and wait and wait and then…oh, yes, morning comes and you scramble out of bed and yell as loud as you can to wake everyone up, run down to the tree and your eyes pop wide at the stacks of shiny colorfully wrapped presents…and you got everything you asked for…and then, you sit back at the end of the unwrapping frenzy, and a strange feeling settles. Like being a bit too full after a good meal. Something isn’t quite right, but you don’t know what. There’s still a certain restlessness in the room…

Huh.

Santa came through. But you knew he would. The risk of disappointment on Christmas morning was marginal. So, you brush the feeling aside, toddle off with your toys and in a couple of days you’re making next year’s list because you’re already bored with the stuff you’ve just been given.

Dreams are not goals.

I used to dream about becoming a published author. I decided I  loved to write, I was pretty good at it or so I was being told, and I allowed myself to dream about what it might be like to someday see my words in print. (And go on Oprah). Somewhere along the way, that dream became a goal. (Not the going on Oprah bit).

You dream with your eyes closed. You can’t see the moon if you’re not looking at it. 

While I loved dreaming about success and the millions of dollars I would earn, the minions at my beck and call and my name on the NYT best-seller list, I wasn’t entirely stupid. I might still dream about some of those things, (kidding) but they are not my goals. I don’t wake up each day and flex my fingers with the thought, “Right, today is the day I will write the book that will be become a best seller…” Maybe I should, but I don’t. That is a good dream, a fun dream, but it’s not my goal.

My goal is to write words that are pleasing and acceptable to the One who has given them to me.

That’s it. It’s that simple.

But I don’t sit back and say, “Ok, God, here ya go.” No, I hone, polish, read, re-write and start all over again a dozen times a day. I do the work. Whatever happens after that, whether that book succeeds or fails will not be because I did a half-ass job. I don’t do half-ass.

This is work, people.

Once I set my goal of becoming published, I knew I had to meet a certain criteria. I needed to do a lot of work, reading, studying the craft, taking online lessons, going to conferences. I have not yet ticked that box and I pray I never will. There is always room for improvement when it comes to writing. I needed an agent. That was a given for me, so I set that goal and achieved it. I was no longer alone in the journey. And then one day, after a very long wait, mind you, I held my first book in my hands. Yes, I say it was a dream come true, and it was. But it was also I goal I’d set for myself, and accomplished.

Dreams and wishes are granted. Goals are earned and achieved. 

The cool thing about dreams is that they’re always there. Always floating around someplace, maybe a little to the left of the moon. I think dreams are necessary and worth holding onto, worth shooting for. But make a plan to get there. And don’t be surprised if, when your dream comes true, it’s not exactly everything you wanted.

Sometimes it’s more. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes reality falls somewhere in between what we hoped for. Sometimes when dreams fall short of our expectations, they spur us on to greater things.

And that, my friends, can only be a good thing.

Are you shooting for the moon today? Or are you happy to land somewhere in the vicinity? 

It’s A New Year, Ready or Not…

Tags

2013, Catherine West, Goals, God, Life, New Year, Resolutions

Happy New Year!

Are you smiling and nodding in agreement? Or did you just roll your eyes at me?  Yeah, I know. The sentiment gets old pretty fast. Some of you might be thinking “What’s new about it? I get up, go to the same job, work the same hours for the same stinking salary, come home, feed the family, help kids with homework, clean up and do it all over again tomorrow.”

I get that.

When my kids were in school, that’s pretty much how I felt. Each day seemed to be a replica of the previous one.  There was lots to do and very little time in which to do it. I admit to being a bit frazzled at the best of times, and yes, I am sure there were many days when I forgot about stopping and savoring the moments, because they’d pass by far too quickly.

Say what? Stopping and…who now?

Savor the moment. 

I know. It’s a hard concept to grasp. This idea of truly savoring life. But trust me, those little kids tearing around your kitchen right now, screeching at each other, spilling the milk and running in the opposite direction when you say five more minutes until school? They grow up.

All too soon, you’ll be sitting in a quiet, peaceful kitchen with only the dog for company, and you’ll wonder how you got here.

How did I suddenly end up with two adult children, a daughter about to getting married? This year. Yikes. Seems like just yesterday I was bawling my eyes out as I dropped her off at college. Those last few years went by at warp speed. Did I miss anything? Did I give it my all? Did I make myself available? Did I listen, really listen? Did I offer good advice or pray enough or…love enough?

I don’t know about you, but I hate those kinds of questions. I hate thinking that perhaps somewhere along the line, I dropped the ball. Perhaps I spoke an unkind word unintentionally. Or didn’t respond to somebody’s need. Or…well, you get it. The list can go on for miles. And yeah, I’m sure I screwed up last year. And the year before that. And the year before that one too.

I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m not perfect. And I’m okay with it. I’m done with trying to be SuperMom, SuperWife, SuperChristian. I’m me, and while I do live by a certain standard, I try not to knock myself too hard when I make mistakes. Yelling at yourself in the mirror gets ugly quick.

This is why I don’t make resolutions. I do set goals and I’ll try my best to meet them, but I won’t set myself up for failure. Like saying this year I will write three novels and become a NYT best selling author. Not gonna happen. I would like to complete a novel or two. I do have hopes and dreams for my writing, but honestly, I simply don’t know what the future holds. I can’t predict it and I won’t try. I do have some personal goals that I’d like to meet, but I have no way of knowing whether I will or not. So I will do my best to live in the moment. To savor each step along the way. To enjoy life to the full. And to be ready as best I can for whatever is coming around the next corner.

I’m determined to enjoy the journey.

That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Sure, there are some things I could probably change about myself. And I might have things I’m working on. But I’m not sharing them. God and I know what I need to focus on this year. Everyone on Facebook really doesn’t need to.

So as we launch into 2013, ready or not, I wish you peace. I wish you joy. Success, however you define it. I hope that you will take time each day to smile, to laugh, to love, and to savor the moments with the ones you love. I pray you too will endeavor to enjoy the journey.

Let’s roll.

What’s It Worth To You?

Tags

Catherine West, Goals, Life, Success, Writing

Since both our kids have left the nest, the hubby and I have a lot more time on our hands. He’s taken up gardening. And I have my writing. But we’re always in search of things to do together, apart from eating out, which we do very well. 🙂

I love antiques. Last year I started collecting old English bone china tea cups and saucers. I’m also interested in old books and have picked up a few of those over the past year as well. Bermuda is a wonderful place to find ancient artifacts. Keeping in mind that an antique is  anything over one hundred years old, Bermuda was colonized in 1609, by a shipwreck – and the colonists, originally on their way to Jamestown, Virginia, finding the land lush and the climate suitable, stayed. In 1612, Britain made it official, and Bermuda was made a Colony of the British Empire. So you can imagine what delights might be found at estate sales, auctions and even yard sales!

We’d never been to an auction before, but this past weekend we decided to give it a try. I thought I’d be intimidated, not know how to bid or what price to bid…but it was all quite simple. And fascinating. I couldn’t believe some of the pieces being auctioned off, and the prices they went for were quite a steal. We came away with a few lovely things ourselves, and I think we’ve been bitten by the bug. I didn’t attend the second day, but hubby came home and told me he witnessed a sterling silver spoon go for the price of ten thousand dollars. Say what?! I can’t fathom dropping that kind of cash on a spoon! Maybe I don’t know enough about silver or rare spoons, but honestly? Ten grand?  My first thought was that you could feed a whole lot of kids with that money. But obviously whoever ended up with that spoon really wanted it. For whatever reason, it was worth something to them. Worth ten thousand dollars to be precise.

Have you ever wanted anything so badly you’d do just about anything to get it? Wanted it so badly you could taste it? Reach out your hand and touch it?

I felt that way about getting published. That was my dream, and I was desperate for it. And for a lot of years it remained out of reach. Sometimes I’d get close, get all excited and think, finally, finally, this is going to happen! And then it didn’t. Disappointment crashed in violent waves over my spirit. Discouragement followed and despondency almost made me give up. A lot of times. But I didn’t. I persevered because that dream of becoming a published author was worth something to me. It was a goal I’d set for myself, and I was going to meet it come hell or high water. I was willing to hang in there for the long haul, however long it took.

I’m not sure where that determination came from. Perhaps it stems from the fact that I’ve never been a high achiever. I wasn’t the popular kid, the smart kid or the pretty kid. I only did a couple things well, and was pretty much average or below average in everything else. But I knew I could write. And write I did. Perhaps in a way, my desire to succeed, which I equaled with becoming a published author, was to prove to myself that I could do it. To confirm that those who believed in me were actually not crazy.

Funny thing is, once my dream became reality, I found out that reality sometimes bites. Because now I have greater goals to go after. Bigger dreams. And the road gets harder, not easier. I’m swimming upstream with a whole lot of other fish and most of them are stronger swimmers, faster and probably more talented than I can ever hope to be.

Do I have what it takes to keep going? To keep writing stories that people will want to read? Do I have what it takes to land a contract with my dream publisher? I don’t know. Some days I think I do. Some days doubt creeps in and convinces me otherwise. What I do know is this – I believe that right now, today, I’m exactly where God wants me to be, doubts and all.

My dreams are worth a lot to me, but knowing I’m on the right path is worth a whole lot more. Because I’ve learned that my self-worth is not measured by how many books have my name on them or where my publishing career goes from here. I am valuable to God whether I succeed or not. And He paid a lot more than ten thousand dollars for me.

What are your dreams and what are they worth to you? 

Where Are You Going?

Tags

Catherine West, Dreams, Goals, Journey to Publication, Writing Life

And how are you going to get there?

It’s so easy to get frustrated with the writing life. Some days it feels like this picture. A long, dusty road, no end in sight. You get thirsty. Lonely. And oh, so tired. The great misconception among unpublished authors is that publication is The Promised Land. You live for that day. All the waiting is over. You’ve finally made it. You’ve achieved your dream…cue sappy music and children dancing through corn fields…oh, wait. Yeah. Never mind.

Cue sappy music and Julie Andrews running up a mountain wearing an apron. There. Much better.

The truth is, as sad as it may be, publication is NOT the end. As wonderful as it is, my experience has been that it’s just the beginning. And being a published author is far more stressful than not being published.

What’s that?  Nope, that wasn’t a typo. But that’s another post. Today I want to talk about The Road. (And not the awful movie).

If you’re reading this blog, I’m assuming you have some interest in writing. You’re a published author, a soon to be published author or a reader who loves connecting with authors. Because I want this to be an interactive blog and not just me blathering nonsense at you, I’m going to ask some questions so we can get to know each other. If you’d be so kind as to answer them for me, I’ll know where you are on your journey and create future posts that you’ll find helpful.

1. Who Are You? (Yes, if you read my Friday Featured Author posts, these questions will be familiar. 🙂 ).

2. Where Are You Now?

3. Where Are You Going?

It’s only fair that I go first, right?

Well, you know the answer to #1. If you don’t, check out the About Cathy section at the top of the page.

#2. This one cracks me up. I love the answers that go something like this: I’m sitting at my kitchen table, enjoying my second cup of Emiril’s Big Bold, staring out at the choppy ocean, coming up with a blog post that will blow your socks off…

Yeah. That may be exactly where I am at this minute, but who cares? I love it when authors think outside the box on this one. Where are you now? Are you in a good place with your writing? A hard place? Are you in the prime of your life or facing some dark days? We can go anywhere with this question. Hint: It’s also a great one to ask your characters.

#3. I think the third question is the toughest for any author or hopeful author to answer. We don’t know where we’re going because we’re really not sure where the publishing business is going. Editors come and go. Agents switch agencies or stop taking new clients. Publishing houses are being bought and sold like Whitney albums. Everything seems to be in a constant state of change. And it is. For me, it’s pretty stupid to dig my heels in and refuse to change along with the business. I may as well pack it in right now. I think we’ll all have a different answer to this question, but mine is this:

“I don’t know. And I’m okay with that.”

So what about you? Will you play my game? And here’s a final question for you:

What writing related topics would you like to chat about on Wednesdays?