Life happens. Constantly. We’ve all gone through those phases in which work overwhelms us and so does family and so do these commitments and so does this and so does that. The list never ends.
As I covered in my previous post, this year has been especially, well, full. I lost track of my inner duckyness. I was getting by and handling business, but I wasn’t having a whole lot of fun. Okay, no fun. I was having zero fun. And it was exhausting.
This kind of life creeps up on you. Before you know it, you can lose track of all your hobbies and outlets that make you your awesome self.
A friend of mine recently went through the same lack of joy. And she had a great idea, which I’m sharing with anyone whom I think could use a recenter.
She calls it the “100 Project.”
It’s been 6 weeks since I went on a book buying ban. This is the longest I have ever stuck to one of these bans; I usually cave after one week at most.
During these past 6 weeks, I’ve been reading what I have, and I’m about to finish my eighth book. I’m focused on the book in my hands, and I’m even finding books in my stash that I’d forgotten I had. Kinda like getting new books without buying them.
It’s been nice. But not easy.
I’ve had to develop strategies and coping mechanisms. Continue reading
Writers are, by nature, a unique breed of people. Some even call us quirky. In the four years I’ve been writing for this blog, I’ve tried to encourage others (like you) to be the writer you want to be. Find your voice. Write that story or start that project you’ve always wanted to start.
One topic I haven’t covered yet is how you can tell if you’re a writer.
Yes, there are a ton of (semi-joking) blog posts and articles. And yes, there are countless jokes to make.
But there are few fairly solid truths that every writer I’ve met or worked with has shared.
Rubber Ducky Copywriter is now four years old.
It’s a little mind blowing for two reasons. One that I’ve kept up with it for four years, and two that you kind, wonderful people visit.
That second reason is the most important.
Elusive Rubber Ducky Muse is unamused.
Got a moment? I know we’ve had our differences over the years but through it all, I’ve always appreciated you.
Your ideas. Your passion. Your inexplicable ability to make a silent exit when you’re bored. (Nice dinner party trick; how do you do that?)
Your independence is admirable. Your creative fire is undeniable. Without you, I’d be nothing more than a monkey at a keyboard, trying to spell my name right.
Yes, I know you aspire to — and deserve to reach — loftier heights than the project I now face. Your mysterious brilliance deserves a grander stage on which to outshine the stars.
Still, my task is one with which I could use your generous help if you so deign to give it.