I solemnly declare before the Muses:
That 2011 is going to be a year
Devoted to pursuit of my career.
No longer dare I mutter lame excuses.
With schedule taped upon my office door,
I’ll start at 9 each weekday on the dot
To edit, brainstorm, query, write, and plot.
The dust and dirty dishes I’ll ignore.
I’ll take to heart the wisdom gleaned from pros,
Display their words above my typing table,
And, just as faithfully as I am able,
Rewrite, rewrite ’til every sentence glows.
If friends, assuming I have time to kill,
Entice with Tupperware or plead a favor,
From deadlines I shall just refuse to waver.
If I don’t guard my writing hours, who will?
Though organizing’s not my bag, I’ll try
To file all market tips efficiently,
For knowing where to find them is the key.
Can’t let a chance of selling work slip by!
Ideas shared are ideas multiplied,
So I should help our writers’ group to grow.
Who better than a fellow scribe can know
Rejection’s pain or publication’s pride?
I’ll thank my family for their loyalties
When rushing off to yet another workshop:
“Eat sandwiches or something, ’cause I can’t stop.
Some day we’ll dine out on my royalties!”
There may be times I need to make amends;
As skirts and shirts hang waiting to be pressed
And hampers overflow, I must not rest,
But keep the candle burning at both ends.
Before me I will hold the vision bright—
A pile of books, my books that I am signing! Repeat these affirmations (quit that whining):
“It’s not impossible” and “Writers write.”