I've been thinking of things non-work related that I love - working to develop a life outside work.

However, today it occurred to me that I could take things from work, and look at them and develop them into personal joys.

For instance, photography.

I have an amazing digital camera that my publisher, Helen, gave me, and I only know the basics about it. I should develop my skills with this camera - to record memories of a personal life as well as news-worthy issues.

Also, computer programs.

Today I downloaded the free version of writesparks, a little program to "spark" stories. I also downloaded the free version of Dramatica Pro, just to check it out. Finally, I downloaded a free ebook called "Unleashing the Idea Virus" (which is actually more about marketing, and less about writing, but applies to several of my little project hobbies.)

Perhaps my despression is not related to the feeling that I have accomplished nothing, but is more tied to the unspoken truth that I have mastered nothing.

So, what should I master?

the camera and Photoshop,
the language and craft,
patience and discipline,
housework and budgeting,
gardening and harvesting,
interaction with my family,
healthy living.

I have begun with
garlic and herbal therapy,
commitment to 3/50,
two new writing programs to play with,
and a return again to my favorite "writing book":

Becoming a Writer by Dorothea Brande
(Written in 1934 by the way)

I have never finished this book, nor have I ever step-by-step fufilled the writing assignments within.

This time, I WILL.

:o)



Underlined phrases in the book so far:


The root problems of the writer are personality problems.

The root problems, in other words, are problems of confidence, self-respect, freedom.

What the stalled or not-yet-started writer needs is some magic for getting in touch with himself, some key.

When wrtiers are very good at what they do they seem to know more than a decent person ought to know.

There are reasons most writers smoke too much and drink too much coffee, if not gin.

Arrange your affairs and your relations so that they help you instead of hinder you on your way toward the goal you have chosen.

Artists do certainly conduct their lives - necessarily - on a different pattern from the average man of business.

Every author is a very fortunate sort of dual personality, and it is this very fact that makes him such a bewildering, tantalizing, irritating figure to the plain man of affairs who flatters himself that he, at least, is all of a piece.

(I really like those last three, thus the bold print.)