Every New Year's Eve we celebrate what I can only call "Hope and Change." It's not the year that passed, counting blessings but also awfulness, but what we hope is the door to change.
If the definition of doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is a form of looniness, then New Year's Eve celebrations are forms of madness.
Call me crazy, but without hope I really would go mad.
Happy
New Year!
I have no issue with those who insist that only "Happy Holidays" is the way to greet people whose observances are unknown to the greeter.
But I have more affinity with those who are less sensitive, and (like me) appreciate the majority including the various minorities in their greetings. We are Hanukkah people, but if you wish me a Merry Christmas, brothers and sisters-- I'm happy to be joyous with you in your merriment.
I choose not to feel conquered, excluded, or imposed on. Your happiness is a blessing, and I am only glad to share it.
And in years such as this one, we get to dance together, because as happens every few years, the calendars decided your holidays and ours overlap.
Having had
complete loss of my desktop(s) not once, not twice, but (gulp) thrice in a
period of a year, the matter of preserving one’s work is not a theoretical one.
Yup, 2022 was a doozy for my shouldn’t-have-trusted computer(s) and two years later, in August of 2024, I once again experienced the joy of having to transition, as my oldy (they all were) desktop needed to be replaced because Windows 10 support ends October 2025. Happily, for now, we crossed that bridge. 👍
I learned a few
things in the process. Best thing was to (finally) succumb and pay for cloud
storage. The thing is, I am not sure I know how to retrieve my digital contents
from the cloud. If you do, let me know. But it feels better to have it.
I also learned
that my habit of saving all my documents onto flash drive(s) saved me from total
loss. More than one flash drive, because I have had these die without warning
in the past. I've also had two hard drives that backed up and died. Best thing about this sort of saving (flash drives) is that I do know how to
retrieve and upload when the need comes, and as I said, it came and came and
came.
In the pre-historic
days when I first began using a computer, I printed everything that mattered in
order to have hard copies. Flash drives weren’t invented yet and didn’t become
ubiquitous until later. I had files saved to a CD, which was somewhat more
cumbersome.
The hard paper
copies are great for proofreading, but if the digital work meanders to the
great nowhere ether forest or evaporated by a bug, it means typing and typing
and more typing from the printed pages. It isn’t an elegant solution. But in
those ancient times I just didn’t trust the ephemeral nature of words on a
screen. I only believed the reality of something I could hold. I still feel this way about books I am
reading, by the way.
But digital files
need a digital back door storage.
What do you do? I’d
love to know.
We
grasp reality through stories. But before we have sentences that make
paragraphs, we have symbols.
I
quote the first part of my favorite sentence from another
writer’s post, “Life speaks to us through
symbols….” Lisa Tener’s whole post is worth reading.
Unlike
the notion that using symbols makes a story literary, I contend it makes any
story better. It makes a story good.
Think
of weaving consistent symbols into your storytelling. Now make their appearance
organic, and you have better stories.
Thoughts
as I finished draft number two of my current WIP. 😔
Can you guess what my current woven symbol is? Don't try too hard. My Beta readers are yet to comment on it. My hope is that it's seamless, and they so won't.
*What’s
not to like?
Someone asked me yesterday
how I feel about being criticized.
Simple: I don’t like it,
but I’m not against it. 😰
The question came in the
passive construction, deliberately obscuring the action’s source. This forced a
vague answer.
Because (and this is key)
it depends on WHO is doing the criticizing.
After the initial sting, I
think I usually can tell if this person is coming from a helpful place, and let
me tell you— it matters. A lot.
When suggestions for
improvement come from a loving unselfish place, they are golden. Don’t get me
wrong. No Pollyanna, I. It never feels good in the immediate aftermath. Never.
But some time after, as
soon as a few hours, these offerings are gifts.
One thing that distinguishes
the loving criticisms are if they are something one can change. This is
pivotal.
If words point to unchangeable
things, they are not well meant. Forget about 'em as soon as you can. Toss ’em to
the wastepaper basket at the edge of the universe. Go on, act it out. Print
those words, crumble the paper, and give it your best basketball throw into the
garbage.
But the actionable ones
coming from someone who is a fan/friend/faithful family— count these as fabulous. Because your “F” today is a chance at an A+ tomorrow.
