Decision Day

Here we are. August 15. Decision Day. Forget what I'm talking about? Go here.

After my gratuitous display of selfishness the other night, the one where I told Boyfriend I was gettin' on a plane in October and staying in Paris for six months whether he liked it or not and then realized that the fact I've put off my dreams for ten years doesn't negate the fact that I've committed to a relationship, I've been doing a lot of thinking.

One decision I've made is that a whole chapter of my book will be dedicated to the great challenge of living your dreams when you are in a relationship. Perhaps I'll call it 'It's Easy When You're Single, Childless and Rich!' It would be fun to do exactly and only what's best for you and get on that plane TOMORROW, dammit. Which you could, but it would have consequences. Like the end of your relationship, for example. Which you may not be prepared to face even though you've been questioning things and, while there are legitimate concerns about opposites not just attracting but making a go of it long term, you suspect that a lot of the time you're just projecting your own creative frustration onto your partner.

Welcome to Long Breathy Sentence Friday. Gasp. Can we take your order?

Another factor you'd be smart to consider is how you are sometimes pointlessly impulsive and end up wasting a lot of time wondering what the hell you are going to do now that you've quit your job, sold everything and arrived in a city that, shock of shocks, does not greet you with open arms crying, "Welcome back! We missed you! Here's a lucrative publishing contract and a BMW X3 fully loaded with a male model and a champagne tap."

Yet another realization you've made in the past couple of weeks of spectacular creative output is that you simply require a deadline or some other sharp, pointy accountability device in order to be unbelievably productive. If I added an editor with a background in drill sergeantry to this self-imposed book deadline of mine, I would be in seventh heaven. This is good to know about oneself.

All this to say I'm still going to Paris. But not in October. In February. For three to six months and maybe longer if mood or opportunity strikes. My point is not to put off my dream. My point is to set myself up properly this time. Dana had an excellent observation that the mistake I made with Paris Part 1 was to ignore the next step. I probably should have arranged a meeting with a producer or something after returning home in order to maintain momentum and prevent catastrophic depressive sinkage.

So. I am working towards my September 15th deadline and the wonders that await me in Banff. Meantime, I am crafting a delicious proposal to send to publishers asap. The absolute best case scenario is if I got a contract before getting on a plane to Paris. Wouldn't that be lovely? Regardless, it's time to put my head down and do the work. I need to be diligent and brave with my dream – getting pieces finished, submitting, putting myself in front of people who can help. In other words, letting the universe know that I am serious about my success as a writer. So when I do arrive in Paris, I've really earned the BMW with a champagne tap.

Detailed plan tomorrow. Stay tuned.