Tag: goals

This Week in Sniderville: 17

Stefanie Snider

This week I learned that apparently the Internet hates Canadians. My sister-in-law called and asked me to grab something off Amazon for her, since I shop there all the time and have an account already. It was an inflatable pool slide, and she wants it for my nephew’s upcoming birthday. Sure, no problem. It was just over a hundred bucks, not bad considering its size. I plopped it into my cart and went to finalize the purchase.

The item was selling for $114. Any wager on the shipping price?

$205. TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE DOLLARS. What the everloving FUCK, Internet? We’re a good people, I promise. What did we ever do to you?? Needless to say she quickly selected something else instead.

evil one

The Evil One approves.

Last night I went to see The Purge with my friends Dani and Leslie. I’m not sure we all saw the same movie. Dani said it was lame, and Leslie posted a scathing review. I left wishing I’d written it myself.

Today I posted this on Facebook:

“I’M GROUNDED.
In an effort to catch up on my hilariously-behind writing schedule, I’m grounding myself for 24 hours. Effective 5:00PM today, I will not be answering texts, phone calls, or messages on Facebook.

Exceptions are family and if your hair is on fire. And if it’s your hair I’ll require photographic proof. I got shit to do.”

I need to keep reminding myself: if I keep on track with my Big Plan, someday this —

franklin covey back deck

— will be my day-to-day life.

How was your week?

When I Think How Good (Life) Can Be…

Stefanie Snider

“Sometimes when I think how good my book can be, I can hardly breathe.”
– Truman Capote

 

Today is a holiday for most of Canada, including Ontario, where I live.

All long weekend I’ve been having these… flashes, presentiments I guess, of what life would be like if I were ready to write full-time. I mean, for the last 72 hours I haven’t worn a lab coat; I haven’t worn safety glasses or gloves or sensible footwear. I haven’t spent any time at all doing things according to what other people wanted.

Instead I spent time outdoors, with family. I rose when I felt like; I stayed up late, reading. In short, I made my own schedule, a privilege denied me by my workaday week. And while I never stopped thinking about writing or where my career is headed, it was with excitement and hope, not dread.

When I came to the page I felt refreshed and thrilled to be so lucky, and I can’t help but yearn for the time when this will be my daily routine. Nothing excites me more than the idea of spending eight, ten, twelve hours at my desk, watching movies play in my head while I chase the words that describe them.

I had one of these little flashes just now, sprawled on the bed reading We Need to Talk About Kevin (which is brilliant, by the way). The sun’s going down, and the branches of the trees are starting to do that black-silhouette thing I love so much. I just felt so calm, so at peace, and it makes me want to move forward into the time when I won’t be under fluorescent lights at this time of evening. When I can look forward to spending time watching my bats after a long day of writing, when I can sit on the back deck with a hot cup of coffee and not have to worry about whether it’ll keep me up that night.

I get these little glimpses, and they make me briefly so happy. But like a junkie, I want more. It used to hurt unbearably, reaching for something that seemed so out of reach. But every month my writing’s earning a little more, then a little more, and it makes me start to think: There could be something here, if only I can keep on track and push myself a just a little further each day.

Resolutions. Or Not.

Stefanie Snider

I’ve been thinking about resolutions all day (which is to say on commercial breaks and while driving to Chapters only to find that THE INTERNET LIED and they weren’t open after all, dammit). I feel like this is a big year, for some reason, Mayan bullshit excepted.

So, some things:

I want to waste less: time, energy, money, mental space taken up by stupid shit that doesn’t matter.

I want to make more: to write and publish more, finish up some knitting projects, and bake every week.

I want to read more: I thought about setting a “goal” number, 52 books this year? 100? but that takes the joy out of reading. So, just more.

I want to strengthen my relationships with the people who matter most to me, and to let go of those who suck the life out of me.

I don’t know if these are resolutions, in the traditional New Year’s sense, because they’re all things I’ve been working on lately anyway. But at the same time, these are all important to me, and sharpening my focus on them only helps me get where I want to be. So, there you have it.

What are your goals this year?