9 January 2015

Dear Colleen,

Beating yourself up, are you? Sure go ahead. As Elaina said, it’s not as though the world came to an end because you didn’t post a new letter today.

But you can’t bloody stand it when you fail to live up to the promises you make. It’s one of the reasons you avoid making promises and keeping deadlines unless you know you can weasel some flexibility from the situation.

It’s your project! Get a life! Are they going to fire you? Is the project going to collapse? Will Elaina think twice about your worthiness as a creative partner?

No. No. No. NO.

This week you wrote five full letters and one by one wadded each of them up. They weren’t interesting, or maybe they went down dead ends. Look on the bright side: you wrote a couple thousand words, kept the old noggin greased and, for a change, avoided writing something super-charged with anger about the state of humanity. (You wanted to, didn’t you? Go ahead—admit it! It’s not enough for this country to supply you with plenty to write about, now the world is doing its best to help out. But that’s another letter for another week. Stick to the subject!)

See what I mean? You’re hopeless. So, pack it in and see if you can write something coherent tomorrow. Or, see if anyone thinks there’s any value in beating yourself up on the interwebs. Who knows? There just might be. Watch Colleen rage at herself for her lack of reliability.

Deep breath.

It was a really busy day. You had things on your mind. A blizzard raged outside. All the children were home. Shoveling, errands, anxiety, relief, fetching and carrying. LIFE. Yes, life. Days happen like this sometimes. Forgive yourself and move on. Sweep away the useless junk from this week and start next week anew. Not every letter needs to win some literary prize. Meanwhile, look at the things you did accomplish this week.

You finished your second novel and sent the manuscript to your editor.

You edited lots of pieces for friends, promoted the website, and prepared a short story for a contest.

You filled your computer with two or three thousand words of useless—STOP!

You lived. And really, that’s quite good enough for one week.

Let it be enough. Let it be. Let it.

Love, Colleen

To read more of Colleen’s letters, click here!