My second resolution (no television after 8pm) hit a snag when I watched Supernatural and then Frazier with the kids and husband on Saturday night. It was a weekend. What could go wrong? I could end up becoming a tired zombie who watched 5 episodes of Frazier and ended up in bed past midnight. I think I need to keep weekend nights clear of television too.
My third resolution? Exercise everyday. Yes- now it’s getting painful. I don’t need to hit the gym, watch a video, or run 5 miles per day every day, but I must do something active for at least a half hour. No exceptions. Yoga and Pilates are included so I can use different muscles throughout the week. It may be hard, especially if I get sick, but even stretching will count on those days. Maybe I’ll even get into shape for soccer season this year. It begins in three weeks.
On a good note, I had a burger, fries, and an Oreo milkshake last night for dinner! No limitations on diet ….yet.
I’ll keep you all up to date on my progress.
I decided on the second resolution after missing quality social contact with my family while we stared at the television for four nights this week.Granted, we were together watching movies, but my God, if I said anything during the movie or we’d need to rewind the ten seconds lost to human connection.
So the resolution this week? No television after 8pm. Will this be difficult? Probably, but it also gives me another week to skip exercise and not watch what I eat.
Does the family have to follow my resolutions? No. But I’m hoping to be a decent role model. Or I will end up killing someone after having too many restrictions on me.
I’ll keep you updated next Friday.
I’m a goal fanatic. Give me a goal, I’ll set off on the journey with zeal! So the first resolution was a piece of cake.
Journaling is not hard when there is no word count that I have to meet. So on a few nights, I wrote one or two sentences and put down the pen. I’m trying to write about positive things so I can count my blessings, although occasionally, I’ve written about issues that have come up that I need to work out like staying up way too late and never waking up in time to exercise.
My biggest problem is the anticipation of other resolutions coming up over the next few weeks. If I’m going to force myself to exercise more, I need to rest now. If I’m going to be placing restrictions on my diet, now is the time for ice cream. If I’m going on a tighter budget, I should spend now.
I haven’t decided the content of Week 2’s resolution, but I’ve it narrowed down to a few things that could help me step closer to my zen self. I’ll tell you all on Monday!
My novel “True Peril” was named as a Finalist in Romantic Suspense for the New Jersey Romance Writer’s Golden Leaf Award. I’m planning on heading to the award ceremony on October 14, 2016.
In one year and a few months, I’m turning fifty years old. When I was younger, I’d always envisioned my fifty-year-old self as a wise, organized, completely together woman. Now that the age is closing in on me, I’m not quite where I thought I’d be.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m closer to that wise super woman than I’d been at twenty and thirty, but bad habits are still running part of my life like the best friend I’d adored in high school, who was constantly dragging me into fun, but completely destructive directions.
I have just over a year to make myself the person I’d always longed to be. Although a solid New Year’s resolution might be able to help me with my exercise and diet, I need something more drastic. So I’ve decided that I’m taking on a new resolution each week for the next fifty weeks. If it all works out, I’ll hit my second half century as the person I’d always thought I was capable of being. If not, I’ll have to sit back and acknowledge that my previous goal was unachievable and I won’t feel any regrets for at least trying.
I’ve decided the best first resolution is to journal everyday. There have been times in my life where I was successfully writing in a journal every day. That was years ago. I miss the comfort of a daily thought about how my life is going on any set day. So I’ve bought myself a leather journal and am ready to go.
I’ll update you on my progress on Friday. Have a wonderful week!
This week we’re delving into the origin of story ideas. If you’ve come from Fiona Riplee‘s blog, welcome!
One story idea that came to me as a gift from someone else is the story of Alexandra Northrop from Untrue Colors. She was the reason the book was written.
I had written two books about wealthy sisters who must overcome huge obstacles. When I pitched them to an agent, she told me to add a third sister. Trilogies sell better. The problem? The books were already written. So I added an estranged sister in Europe. she refuses to come home. The first two books never sold. That left Alex alone in Europe, away from her family. Why?
Untrue Colors was a blast to write: Here’s an excerpt:
Alex sat in her favorite booth in the back corner of the Yellow Dog Pub with a Coke and a cup of pumpkin-and- Gruyère soup and pulled out the book Matisse, Father & Son from her backpack. One of the students she’d met offered to check out books for her from the library, and she devoured every one she could lay her hands on. She’d created a comfortable yet temporary life in Oxford. She dressed as one of the students at the university, lived at a youth hostel, and earned money by helping a pub owner clean up after closing. Still, she felt far from safe.
“Gabe, how’s the soup?” Matt, the owner, asked.
She’d become used to being called Gabe West. Gabrielle, her mother’s name, had been the only name she could think of when she’d arrived in Oxford. West reminded her that her family was across the ocean in Boston. Since moving to
Europe eight years ago, Alex had kept in sporadic contact with her family. Since meeting Luc, she’d had zero. They didn’t need to become mixed up in her problems. Luc was too dangerous.
She took a spoonful and savored the first taste of her main meal for the day. “You outdid yourself.”
“Glad to hear it.” He sat across from her, his wise blue eyes framed by laugh lines. “Listen, love, some bloke has been poking around the local pubs asking about an undocumented French art lover with a pert little nose and an air of desperation. Never did hear you speak anything but English, but thought I’d give you a heads-up.”
Her spoon dropped into the bowl, splashing some soup on the table. She clasped it again as though it was an accident and raised her eyebrows to appear interested in Matthew’s statement, but not too interested. Her body tensed, ready to run away from this sanctuary. Had they found her?
Continue on to read what Leslie Hachtel found as an idea that eventually came to light and see you next week!!!