Scrivener made me do it!

Oh, how naïve was I to think that I had my outline all figured out. A good introduction, a Quick-Start Guide, simple household systems, each with their own chapter, simple methods to pare down the unnecessary, and pow, you’re organized. That’s before Scrivener took over. It multiplied my work like throwing water on a Mogwai.

big-mess

Once I got it through my thick skull and learned what all the features are called – outliner view, editor, inspector, and the different levels of folders, documents and text (and much more) – I started putting all my ideas into it and attempting to organize them. Oh look, you can rename the folders, color-code them, make subdocuments, and sub-subdocuments, and sub-sub-subdocuments, make separate outline pages with their own summary pages, and important points to research from the outline, and lions, tigers and bears! I really got super-carried away.

Part of it is letting myself get derailed and not being able to focus, often by not getting enough exercise and rest, and by not trusting my schedule. It’s easy to do when you’re having a “Mom-ADD day’, where you can’t focus on anything more than 10 minutes at a time, because everyone and their grandma is calling you or needs something, and throw in laundry, errands, cooking, and maybe a shower, and well…sometimes, I’m just too tired to come up with a brilliant book layout at 11:20 at night. I let myself be led astray.

If you don’t get enough rest and exercise, it’s much easier to live in the moment rather than doing what you have previously deemed most important when you were in a motivated and rational, rested state-of-mind. Living in the moment is not bad, but setting some limits and doing the important things first is much less painful than trying to play catch-up. Much, MUCH less painful than trying to figure out what the heck you were thinking the last time you were in Scrivener. ????

I guess I need to get back to following my own advice. Coming soon to Amazon! Just let me clean out this email inbox first…

 

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My awesome job

I’M THE AUTHOR OF THIS MAN’S HISTORY.

Beside me, he inhales 

And exhales twice as long

Sturdy, nimble feet, small thorn scratches, raced so many miles today; now small and still, barely tucked under my leg for warmth

Slender and muscular runner’s legs like his dad’s, jumped many pretend buildings today; now pulled in close like the baby I used to hold

Long, warm arms and little hands with grass-stained nails, teased and swatted sisters today, now comfort one worn, white, floppy bunny

Wide shoulders and chest with new football muscles, tackled and powered through today, now quietly growing in peace

Narrow face, good lines, sticky candy spots and silky toe-head hair, learned and watched and yelled and talked today; now blue eyes are hiding and the old soul is silent.

A man as a child, in my charge to get him there whole, confident, God-fearing, lovable, respectable

I’m the author of this man’s history.

——-

Just some thoughts (well, a poem of sorts, actually) while watching my son sleep. Considering the world today and what a huge job it is to raise a son…how a broken one can grow into a man that will hurt himself and others, cause so much destruction and heartache, tearing things down instead of building them up. But that same son, nurtured and given a soft place to fall at home, a dad to teach him courage and a mother who shows him what a good woman is, can change the world.  

Let me know what you think.

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