Grit

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“It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” – Babe Ruth

I know how terribly obvious this sounds, so just consider this a preface: It’s so easy to get disheartened when you see people achieving more than you.

I’ve wanted to write novels since I was a tyke, but I only really started writing seriously about two or so years ago when I realized journalism wasn’t going to be enough for me. Since then, I’ve hated almost everything I’ve written. And, on days that end in “y,” I poor salt in my wounds by comparing myself to people who are out there, writing stories and sharing them with the world at a skill level and speed that I can’t seem to keep pace with.

During my last couple of years as a writer-in-training, I’ve tried out and discarded dozens of ideas, eventually landing on a premise for a novel about time travel that I felt was decent. I wrote about 30,000 words that I eventually threw out. (Though I remain committed to making that premise work in some way, some day…maybe tomorrow, actually, now that I think about it.) Over the last 10 months, I’ve taken a break from novel-writing to take a crack at writing a short story. And last night, I finished it. (I’ve come to love that word. Finished. Mmmmmm.) And, amazingly, despite its problems, I actually like it. Callooh callay! (Of course, now it’s time for the heartache of rejection, but I’ll cross that bridge when I have all of the wine.) (Am I over-using parentheses?)

I’m writing all this out because it’s important to remind myself once in a while that I’m making progress, even if it is painstakingly slow. And progress is so important, because it means I’m sticking to my goals even though I’ve barely left the starting line of this exhausting marathon. And that, according to my new favourite TED Talk, is how you succeed.

I don’t know if I’ve got talent. I don’t know if the world wants to read what I’m peddling. But if grit really is a key indicator of success, I think I may stand a chance, because it sounds like having grit is a choice. Every day, I can sit at my computer and choose to keep plucking away. I can choose to be gritty by simply refusing to give up. While I hope this perseverance leads to my eventual success (however I’m defining that on a particular day), it also serves a more short-term goal: it makes me feel like I have some control over this ridiculous, largely luck-based pursuit of mine, and that gives me something to hold onto on those days when I feel as though I’m typing nonsense into the abyss.

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The Day of the Doctor Who Anniversary Fete

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I love the whimsy of Doctor Who. And the hijinks. And the gravitas and the wonder and the possibility. What imagination! What joy!

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I also happen to enjoy thematic party food, so when I invited some friends over to watch the 50th Anniversary Special tonight, I decided to have some fun:

Bowtie pasta in Dalek takeaway boxes:

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TARDISale (gingerale with blue food colouring):

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Jelly babies! (hooray for the candy shop near my apartment that sells British sweets):

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Cakes with ball bearings and Weeping Angel grilled cheese sandwiches (thanks to my WarpZone cookie cutter):

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And, Geronimo! (Also featuring the Sherlock and Watson cookies my friend brought over.)

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Now that the party is over and the special has been watched, I can’t wait to read about all the shout-outs to previous generations of Doctors I missed in the episode. I also really want to give John Hurt a hug, but I don’t know if that’s plausible.

(I’ve been using the word “fete” a lot lately because I’m reading Connie Willis’ To Say Nothing of the Dog. Please accept my apologies. These things just seep in, you know?)