Yesterday, the new semester started. Wait.
Actually, tomorrow marks the start of the fifth week of the
semester. What the heck? How did that happen? I'm assuming I must have missed a time warp
in September because there is no way October begins tomorrow. Excuse me while I stomp my feet and shake my
fists at the universe for allowing time to pass so dang quickly.
I guess I should have known we'd breezed out of the
beginning and into the middle based on how swamped and frazzled I am. Forget about writing or editing or anything
other than just getting through the day right now.
Perhaps, the universe is doing that thing its known to do—teaching
me a lesson, reminding me of a couple of things I really should remember by
now. As usual, they apply to both my life and my writing. I've said it before. I love beginnings. Middles, not so much. It feels like they drag
on, and they're either so boring, I just want to move on to the next thing or
they're filled with over the top drama, and again, I get antsy for something
new.
And then I remember that I have some control over the
middle, too. If it's boring, I don't
have to wait for change. I can make it
happen. If it's too dramatic, I can remove obstacles and even characters
(people) who just aren't working. Of
course, there's plenty I can't control (not that I've learned that lesson yet),
but that's a given. Still, since the
middle is the longest part of the semester, a novel I'm writing, and even the
story of my life, I might as well settle in and enjoy the conflict. After all, that's what makes a good middle.
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