What can happen in a year: Milestones

I can divide a year up in so many ways. I can do it seasonally, but here in Colorado, there really aren't seasons like there are in other places. Sometimes the spring feels like winter and sometimes there are warm days in January when the sun feels near and the air is almost alive. But the seasons, at least in theory come at least four times a year. I like February here. In February the light and length of day changes drastically from the beginning to the end of the month.

Likewise, I can divide up the year by my Umbrella Factory Magazine schedule. We publish quarterly, and so in a way, the magazine's annual schedule is really an extension of the seasons. I know that I feel very differently in the spring than the other seasons and I am wistful in the fall. These feelings influence what I choose for the magazine, and they influence what I write.

I could divide the year up by month. I don't. I don't divide the year up weekly either, although it would make sense if I consider how much I love small easily attainable tasks.

I'm up late at night. I'm also up in the early morning—at least what I consider early mornings. I work during the days. Sometimes I become so engrossed in what I'm doing I don't really know that time is passing more than the I see the light change.

But when I consider how much I can get done in a year, it is the milestones that allow me to gauge what I'm doing.

Over the last few years I have binged on poetry in the early months of the year. I read a ton of poetry and I try to write as much as I read, which happens daily. Nearing the time that the March issue of Umbrella Factory Magazine arrives, I try to finish up my poetry project. I suppose I use the magazine as a deadline. I do the same thing from March until September. I do my best to write what I consider a manuscript length group of short stories. Once I get that done, I tie up all loose ends with my work so I can write a novel in the fall and late months. I do this because of two very specific times of my life as a writer.

I went to Vancouver, BC in November of 1999. In a period of about two days, I lived six years. The two days that followed that I bled on the page and wrote what I considered a novel. The following year I spent two months writing a second novel. So, even to this day, this year, I do my best to write a novel in the fall if only to be true to myself or because I feel like I should.

But it wouldn't matter what I did in the fall, the point is, I've worked all year to do this. I make a list of all the stuff I want to do: the poems, the stories, the novel, add weekly blogposts, magazine publications and then I start to work. Once I finish one project, I'm delighted to put it in the file and move to the next. I feel a sense of purpose and that's not a bad thing to feel in this detached vapid world we can so easily fall victim to.

Milestones are whatever you choose them to be. It could be a word count. It could be a publication, it could be a feeling which is harder to pin down and define. What a milestones is, especially as a writer, is a tangible product. It is something from the ether that has made it to the page and becomes the buildings of the next thing.

I think the tackling of any creative project becomes much easier when it broken down into small easily attainable parts. Putting these small parts together and finishing something is good for the self.

Sometimes milestones are only seen in retrospect. So, take inventory, what have you done this year, what were the biggest accomplishments, what happened and how will you remember you working year?

Next time: Making an endgame.