Walking on the Moon, Winning the Nobel Prize, and Other Unrealistic Goals

Well, dear wenches, it’s the new year. This is the time of year when people make resolutions; some they keep, some they wish they could keep, and some they abandon like we pirate wenches abandon ship at a port of call for a rum-soaked evening.

A quick Google search tells me that the Babylonians were the first to make resolutions. One site even claims the Babylonians resolutions usually involved returning farm equipment. Whether it’s eating better, working out, or saving money, most people you talk to are in the mood for fresh starts. It’s a new year, a clean slate, and it’s the perfect time to start again. So, I thought I would jump on the bandwagon. (Yep, I don’t have original thoughts. Bear with me.)

However, I have no interest in making resolutions that I will disregard in two weeks. It leaves me feeling like a failure and I have enough failure in my life, thank you. I think the whole idea behind this resolution gig is that we’re supposed to KEEP the resolutions, so that we feel better about ourselves.

Having no unreturned farm equipment handy, my resolution-making mind turned to my writing. While I was thinking about good resolutions for my writing, I decided that making a resolution like, “I will get a publishing contract this year” wouldn’t get me anywhere. It just is not a realistic goal. Such a resolution would require me to have some control over the publishing entities and, sadly, I have none. Therefore, I am going to attempt to make goals that I can control and attempt to reach said goals tenaciously.

The first goal is that I’m resolving to write at least five days a week. Because I am the boss of me, I gave myself the weekends off. (Unless my slacker self doesn’t write during the week and then said slacker will be forced to work on the weekend.) While I will not bore you with the minutiae of my writerly goals for the year, most of them just involve getting words on paper. So, I made a promise I would do that.

The second resolution is to start meaningful critique relationships. I think it’s time in my writing career to let others into my writing circle which, until now, has consisted of, well, me. (Can one person make a circle?) I’ve spent the past year learning a lot about the craft. Had you asked me what GMC was a year ago, I would have responded that it was a brand of car. But, now that I’ve come so far in my knowledge, it’s time to jump out of my comfort zone and start laying it on the line. That means letting people tell me if it’s crap (which, I’m certain, at least part of it is).

My last resolution has to do with continuing my networking and growth as a professional. While I did join RWA this past year, I’m going to join a local chapter as well. Getting serious means hanging out with other serious people.

What writer goals have you set for yourself this year? And, if you aren’t willing to share, or you just want to gloat, how far have you come in the past year?

Captain Jack Sparrow’s Guidelines to Having a Prosperous and Happy New Year

‘Ello me hearty wenches, it is good of fair Captain Hellion to invite me today to give the first blog of the New Year. Now I know we’ve had a wonderful, fun, and strangely unmemorable 2007 (does anyone know where the rum has gone? No? I really need to start marking that stuff down. It’s getting disturbing)—but it is a new year and we should start things off right with, well, some resolutions, or well, guidelines in getting back on track with the whole pirate gig.

It’s not easy being a pirate. Everybody wants to be one, wave the sword, bust up a couple of ships, capture the cursed Aztec gold—but it takes practice, patience, and pres…prese…prese-prese—and it takes rum. Worry not, me hearties, I’ve written down a few of the guidelines…and I think even that young Turner could manage to become a pirate with these beauties:

1.) Remind yourself you are a pirate. It’s easy to forget, especially after a holiday in port, eating, drinking, and making merry. People stealing your ship. Whatever, there are a lot of distractions. Now you have to clean up, organize, get back on task—and you suddenly wonder: Am I really a pirate? I’m not a very good pirate. Maybe I’m just faking. Calm down. You are a pirate. You’re just out of practice.

2.) Go pirating. This is the important second step. I mean, it’s probably been so long since you’ve pirated more than a shilling or two, but the trick is not to give up because you don’t think the treasure is there. The treasure is there. You just have to go looking for it, mate. But you’re not going to find any treasure, if you don’t get your feculent maggoty arse on your ship and start sailing in a northerly…or southerly direction. Whichever. Get behind the wheel already and stop making excuses.

3.) Create Opportune Moments. Go to pirate conventions and network with other pirates. They might know where treasure is—they might even sell you a map that might help you look. Attending conferences with Pirate Kings creates opportunities for you to show off your treasure…and possibly get more treasure. Savvy?

4.) Seize the Opportune Moment. Another important Jack-task. If a Pirate King asks for your treasure, for God’s sake, send it to him. Don’t dither. I can’t emphasize this one enough. If someone opens the door, walk in out of the cold.

5.) Eat more limes. For God’s sake, we know as pirates, rum, is ever so important to great pirating; however, we don’t want to get scurvy and drop dead before we become a great pirate like me, Captain Jack Sparrow, or that Captain Nora Roberts fellow…so work in a few limes. (No, not to mix with your margaritas, you bunch of lushes.) Help a body out and ingest some green vegetables, a few less fried crumpets, and do a couple laps around the prow of the ship, or swing from the mizzenmast. Exercise and healthy eating is good for you…in moderation, of course. I mean, don’t let it get in the way of pirating, but you don’t need to eat the third éclair whilst steering the ship.

6.) Get a treasure map, acquire some navigational charts. Sailing around without any idea where you’re going or how to get there will not find you remarkable treasure. You’ll usually just run out of supplies and your crew will mutiny against you, leaving marooned on a deserted island with a single shot. Not anyone’s idea of a vacation, mate. Find a book, sketch something on a napkin—whatever—you’re going to do a whole lot better at this pirate thing if you at least look like you know what you’re doing.

7.) Practice pirating every day. Pirating is like exercise, nasty vile habit…I don’t like that one. Okay, pirating is like drinking rum. You can’t really hold a lot of rum at first and it takes practice…you should, therefore, drink every day to build a tolerance for it. Same goes for pirating. If you don’t pirate every day, you won’t improve and snag the really impressive treasure.

8.) There is always a crisis on the High Seas. I can’t tell you the number of fledging pirates who tell me they don’t have time to pirate. Hurricanes, they wail; East India Trading Company…my God, the cannibals. Those sorts of things will never go away, so if you don’t learn to juggle them, pirating is going to be a hard business for you succeed at. Captain Nora Roberts freaks out at hurricanes every day—but she still pirates, every day. Realize there is always going to be a reason not to pirate. You are therefore pirating for your own self-enjoyment and worth—and the slight, though still possible prospect of eventual treasure.

9.) Don’t seek treasure that’s already been plundered. This should be a given, but it’s amazing the number of newbies who hunt for treasure that’s already been exhumed. If you want to get rich, mates, find new treasure. Blaze new trails, lead and don’t follow. Imitation is never as good as the original.