Yesterday afternoon I decided (for real) to stop wasting my time and, rather, do something else, something that pays and provides me with much-needed accolades, say documentary writing. I was okay with my decision. I told my inner voice (usually my inner voice is telling me things) that I was done, through, finished.

I was as certain of this as I was about my decision to end my life by jumping off an iceberg into the Mat-Su River. And I felt just fine with it. In the past, in thinking this way, I did not feel fine. I mean, I used to tire of working really hard on projects and getting reject notices. Now I don’t even get the latter. The University of Alaska Press never got back to me about my proposal entitled If You Come to a Fork in the Road Pick it Up, and Trafalgar Press never got back to me about The Gift of a Good Ride. I did not dash either of these proposals off – rather, I put considerable care,

thought, and time into them. This is no way to treat writers.

I had one more article to write. This was an article that I’d promised for the Icelandic Horse Quarterly, Part II in my four-part Centered Riding series. I missed my deadline (it was two days ago) and thought I’d just blow it off. I further thought this because this is something I won’t get paid for. I had made several attempts at getting something coherent on paper on the subject of imagery but failed.

This morning it occurred to me that I should honor the commitment I made some time back, which was to write this article. The writerly problem that I had to deal with was how might I go about embedding my ideas about imagery in what I write? The answer came as I was cleaning the horse pen. I will, in article form, write a response to a friend who recently asked me for my thoughts about her horse, on occasion, acting in an erratic fashion. This was a major ah ha moment.

I got to work mid-morning, and by noon I had three quarters of a first draft done. I then knew that my approach was going to work. The feeling that followed was the feeling that I get (and at no other time) when I have solved a writerly problem. It can only be described as a sense of self-satisfaction.

The question that I am now mulling over is whether this sense of self-satisfaction will sustain me in the few years I have left? I mean, I am past my prime. I am also past my writing prime. So I do I want to while away my remaining few good years producing drivel that editors are going to turn their noses up at?

On my part, I don’t get the same sense of satisfaction from attempting to market my work

You know, I have not decided one way or the other as to what I’m going to do. After I finish the above-mentioned article, I am going to put my energies into studying for my upcoming Wilderness First Responder class and getting ready for our trip. The list (which is sitting on the table) is quite lengthy. And we have so much to do that we have not even gotten to taking care of the items on this list.

No, I won’t be giving up my day job. This is because I don’t have one.

I had, in between other things, made several attempts at getting something coherent on paper but failed. The subject of imagery.

Next: 92. 4/3/19: Reverse Logic