Back in February (on the 12th, the 10th, who even really knows?), I had my 10th writing birthday.
A writing birthday is something I commemorate to mark the day I decided to take a professional attitude toward my writing, in pursuit of eventual publication.
To my knowledge, the writing birthday is something I invented. I’m not 100% clear on the actual date, but most years observe it on February 12.
(Continued from Part 1)
I’ve previously blogged about my efforts in forming a critique group.
More specifically, that post was about all the things I demanded of prospective members in order to prove their interest, commitment, and ability to do the necessary work of critiquing.
Sex and sexual relationships in the Middle Ages, much like during any age, were fraught with contradictions.
Most of these contradictions stemmed from the involvement of the medieval Church in dictating proper sexual conduct. In turn, according to Marty Williams and Anne Echols, authors of Between Pit and Pedestal: Women in the Middle Ages, the Church’s involvement was owing to the fact that,
Many theologians were completely unable to reconcile sex and the sacred because sex was viewed as something unholy and unclean (p. 86).
It’s widely agreed that most people abandon their New Year’s resolutions by mid-February.
I’ve always found this perspective unduly negative and deterministic. Yes, many people may suffer setbacks in their yearly goals during February. Yet it’s also widely agreed that “If at first you don’t succeed…” is a valid approach to life.
I overwrite everything.
For a long time, this has been my way in every form of writing that I do, from emails to work memos, from “short” stories to “short” novels.
Every writer has two* birthdays.
The anniversary of the day of your arrival into this world.
And that of the day you actually became a writer.