New Life for March

As I prepare to start an entire new life on March 1, tomorrow, this thought from my editor's yoga-teacher friend: this is a month that "literally comes in like one species and goes out like another."

The weather for tomorrow in Boulder is predicted to be warm and sunny, near 60; it may well be breezy, but I think that still qualifies as "coming in like a lamb." So that means that March will go out like a lion. I have one month, 31 days, to get my lion self prepared for roaring.

The best way for me to roar is always through writing. Looking back at February, it wasn't, frankly, the greatest month I ever had. The best thing about February was writing ten (short-ish) chapters on my novel, and writing a poem every day. I also saw my graduate student Jay defend a fabulous dissertation, knit my hat with the pompom, hosted my church dinner circle dinner, and bought my car, as well as getting encouraging "revise and resubmit" comments from the Children's Literature Association Quarterly on my paper about the "twin" series of 1950s popular author Rosamond DuJardin (Double Date, Double Feature, Double Wedding). Okay, now that I'm reviewing the month's high points, helpfully cataloged in my trusty little notebook under the heading "February: Nice Things and Accomplishments," the month doesn't look so bad. But trust me, it abounded in painful disappointments (helpfully NOT cataloged in my trusty little notebook), and the best thing in it, not counting the pompom, was writing.

So in March, I am going to get up extra early every morning - early rising really makes all the difference for writing productivity. I am going to have not only a complete draft of my novel done by the end of the month, but a GOOD complete draft. I am going to continue writing my poems, and at least one of them is going to be a truly wonderful poem. I am going to write, and write, and write, until I roar down on April. Yes!