Get lower and work on your core.

I quad speed skate. Can’t believe at my age I’m saying that, but life is like that. My son and husband inline speed skate.

my quads

As with anything, a certain vocabulary goes with it. My new vocabulary: quads, trucks, brownies, fast to fastest, power crosses, right foot push, under push, put the hammer down, lap and hook, derby skins, 100s, 110s, a lap race, planks, burpies, get low, EZfits, tags, in the box, a pyramid drill, and sandbagging.

Our coach likes to say, “Don’t do anything stupid.” “Keep those legs moving.” “Hustle.” and “Get lower!”

Skaters say things to each other like, “You can do anything for 30 seconds.” and “Go get her!” “Your core!”

And as I go as hard as I can around the rink, legs hurting, back hurting, sweat under my helmet and down my back, I often think–writing a novel is like this.

Well, minus the dripping sweat.

What else do you do in your life that in some weird way is like writing?

Trash can full. Wallet empty. Coincidence?

altered art

Lately I’m not making much art that I like.

The number of failed stories and art projects bother me. Some of them cost real money but ended up in the trash. I’m supposed to make a living and I try to sell some of the art but I’ll never make back the money I’ve wasted. And money is tight around here…like most everywhere.

That’s not to mention the money spent on ink, paper, and postage sending out queries and sample pages of the novels. Ink being the killer.

And the time, the lack of sleep…

It’s depressing to spend all that and have nothing but a full trash can to show for it. I can’t be alone in this.

No use in complaining though, is there?