Resolutions

I was always the optimistic one.

In boot camp, I rarely had problems with the "instructional training" (that is, doing push-ups until you were sure you could, in fact, drown in your own sweat) that more fit recruits dreaded. And I was one of the least fit recruits in my platoon. It never bothered me, because I could always see the end of the day, the end of the week, the end of training. I was helped, a bit, by being the chosen assistant of the guy who copied the training schedule onto note cards for the Drill Instructors, but still: rather optimistic.

In Iraq, I was the guy who was sure everyone would come back from convoy, who figured we wouldn't get our deployment extended through Christmas, and so on. I was blessed with being right, it seemed, but that's beside the point. I wasn't unreasonably optimistic, I just figured things weren't as bleak as all that.

Oddly, this past week, I found myself bleakly cynical at the notion of resolutions. "Useless," I thought. "What makes '06 any differen from '07? I'll just muddle along like I always did, trying to make things better in general. Who needs specifics?"

Well, it turns out I do, and one of the big reasons has to do with writing. My first resolution may be enough:

• Execute New Writing Strategy: It kinda seems, at first blush, like I'm embracing the problem that I've had over the past couple of years (couple?) with writing, and that seems to be a profusion of ideas and little patience to see any of them through. Lots of hopping around. I made a good stab at something during November, is it really wise to hop to something else? Well, yes. See... I've been more or less playing around in the same notional universe since I was 15, slotting things in, making stuff fit, forcing it all together. Every idea I had, save a few, were slavishly bent into this universe. Which was awesome in its own way: I love epic, I love expansive and interconnected and whatnot. I was an unwitting disciple of Quentin Tarantino, in that I love the interwoven stories and lives. And so it was easy to bend everything into this universe. Everything was grist for the mill! And I don't think I'll ever give it up, but as I pushed back the stories that got me started in this universe, so too I think I have to push the universe back as a whole. Put it in the drawer, come back to it later. Later might come sooner, if Tor miraculously uncovers the query packet that I sent them in 2004 (but now I'm starting to wonder if I fucking hallucinated), but I'm not going to think about it again. Ever. Unless tnh calls or some damn thing. So. Clean slate. Start fresh. Focus on one, max two things and finish them. And stay out of that first universe until I can come back and strip out the best bits.
  
• Exercise and Eat Better: What would the list be without these? Seriously though, here's some concrete goals: ~200lbs by 12/31/07. Run 2 * 5ks by 12/31/07 (actual events, that is--run 5k ALOT and 10k a few times for good measure). 10 pull ups, to be performed on 12/31/07. Figure out how to kick that Demon Dew. Finally.
  
• Finish Most of the Basement: I have an office, bedroom, and bathroom down in the lower level that the builder of my house roughed out and the first owner neglected to finish. I doubt I'll finish the bathroom this year, but I've got a running chance at finishing the bedroom and office. I'd really like the office, since we're using what is really a family room/rec room for our office now, and we might like to entertain in it someday.
  
• More Writing Income: So far, I've made more than I ever thought I would with my writing, and that's an amazing thing. But I need to move past amazing and work on grinding out stuff for real pay. I won't be able to quit my day job this year (barring seven figure advances and the Second Coming of Christ Almighty) but I can push at it a little more.
  
• Quit Blogging: And by that, I mean I think I've quit already. I've got an idea for here that could spur some lively conversation (or, fail miserably) but between here and the other blog I'm not doing anything to "build a readership" and I'm not sure that that's where my efforts should be focused. On the one hand, I don't have much energy to write daily, thoughtful essays on the state of the universe and why it's George Bush/Al Gore/Bill Clinton/Ronald Reagan's own, personal fault that two galaxies are colliding eleventy trillion light years away, snuffing out several ancient, pastoral, and enlightened civilizations. And on the other, I don't really have the energy for it. I AM writing for a living now, how ever little it may be, and until I'm Scalzi, it's unlikely that I'll be able to devote a lot of time to it, what with the day job, the kid, and the writing-for-pay (and the writing-for-maybe-eventually-pay).
  
• Love My Wife and Kid More: But that's the easy one.
  

And, that should do it.

Ah, The Sound Of Jet Fighters

Either the world is coming to an end, or a President is being buried practically in my backyard.

The latter, it seems.

ETA: Just watched the flyover from my kitchen window. I've stood under C-130s flying so low that it seemed like I could reach out and touch the belly, but this was something else.