What to do when you’re not particularly good at what you love to do

To conclude, I have abso-fucking-lutely no idea. Hi! I’m Nicki, and I wanted to be a teacher, a psychiatrist, and an army nurse when I wanted to grow up. They all have something in common – there are dog tags involved.

Oh, wait. They all help people. The dog tag part was the only reason I ended up with army nurse. I wanted to get dog tags, but had to be in the military for that, knew I wouldn’t be up for fighting (before I realized they didn’t let girls do that), and doctor sounded too hard, so I “settled” on nurse. Honestly, I know now I wouldn’t be up for that, either. Nurses kick ass and deal with more shit than I ever could. Kudos to them – if you’re a nurse, I am grateful for your willingness to put up with my butt when I’m at my worst.

I believe I got off track. Teachers, psychiatrists (I changed it to “psychologist” when I realized that the latter didn’t require a medical degree – too hard, once again), and nurses. They help people learn. They help people deal with the shit going on in their lives that those people don’t feel equipped to handle on their own. They administer medicine, save lives, and pick you up off the floor when you pass out in the bathroom a few hours after childbirth when you were too stupid to ask for help and bled all over the floor on your way to the potty.

Now, I’m good at helping people. I’m a good listener, I’m intuitive, and I pick up pretty well on what people aren’t saying. I’m not good at it all the time, but with some training, I’d make a good therapist or psychologist or counselor.

But I love to write.

I worry I’m not very good at it.

That’s probably the sound of my insecurities raging their lovely heads (I have more than one). But they’re not completely out of order.

I have evidence I’m good at helping people. Life experience, et cetera.

I don’t have evidence that I’m very good at writing. I don’t have many sales. I don’t have many books up for sale, even. (Yes, one follows the other. I know that.) I’m not even very good at marketing, even though my day job includes that word in my title. (Honestly, it’s like throwing spaghetti at the floor. You know you’ve generally got the right idea, but it’s mostly just a guess.)

So what do you do when you’re not very good at what you love?

Work harder? I mean, writing more will bring in more trickling sales. One or two with every new release. I probably still know everyone who buys one. But maybe it won’t be that way forever? Who knows. It depends on how much I suck.

Give up?


But I don’t know the answer, so if you came here hoping for one, you’re going to leave disappointed.

Sorry about that.

So here’s the deal

sleepy cat with glasses and a green box that says National Novel Writing Month and thbpt

I love National Novel Writing Month. I love the challenge. I love that I had always wanted to write a novel, and when I found this challenge, I did it.

Just like that. Like the challenge was made for me.

I discovered NaNoWriMo four years after its inception in 2003 when it was still new. I’ve participated and won every year since.

This year isn’t going so well. I stepped down as Municipal Liaison for our region which I had been doing since 2008 because I really needed a break, but it seems to have backfired on me.

I don’t feel rested, relaxed, and excited to join events as a participant instead of a leader. Now part of that is just Life, but the other part is my introversion flaring up. I fear the growing group of people. I’m not going to any events. I’m comparing my former leadership to the current one, which is a horrible idea because, well, duh.

I haven’t been writing. I stopped on day four at 1,752 words thinking I would restart the next day with a bit more prep, and that was it. I haven’t gotten back to it yet.

I haven’t even written here, which is an equal disappointment.

Of the 313 days of the year so far, I’ve written 277 of them. That means there’s a month plus six of days I haven’t written any fiction. I kind of wish I hadn’t calculated that out, to be honest.

Oh well!

There are 52 days left in the year. I’ve got 52 days to shape up.

Wish me luck!

Still here

Greetings and salutations! I took a little break to work on some business planning, and somehow National Novel Writing Month snuck up on me.

I’m not quite up to speed yet, but the fact that I’m excited to see where this story will take me I think is a really good sign.

Other things that are happening include doctor appointments flu shots, plumber visits, writing events, and teenage dramatics. Pretty normal and to be expected, to be honest.

That’s all I have for today. The past two days of writing were slow (as you can see in my pretty new header image), but I hope to pick it up, as I have a meet-cute to write and a couple characters to torture.


This is a fabulous $6 tool. I recommend one for anyone with cats, long-haired girls, or people living in their house. Fill sink with water, cover those funny vents under the lip of the sink, and plunge your stoppage away.

Decisions, decisions

0 fiction words, 324 total words

Hidey ho, neighbor!

0 fiction words, 324 total words

I’ve been writing this blog nearly all year now – a new one for 2017. Coming back every day for another post is a habit, and a hard one to break. I wasn’t sure I’d be making a post today, but here I am.

I need more habits like this. Some are easier to fall out of once they’re established. I wonder why that is?

I had a delicious Nice Cream for supper tonight, but I still haven’t mastered the art of making them. Next time I promise I’m going to try the small food processor instead of the blender, which I know does better with really liquid stuff rather than just frozen stuff. I keep telling myself that, and I keep forgetting.

That’s all I have for tonight. I should have done this earlier, but I spent all morning sleeping. Nearly, anyway. I still made it to work on time.

Told myself to do it

250 fiction words, 355 total words

I used to have a morning routine (technically I still have a morning routine, just not the one I’m about to talk about) where I would wake at five, feed the cats and make coffee, stretch/exercise in the kitchen, sit and journal with my coffee, write a journal entry, then maybe even write some fiction before starting my day (waking up the house).

The night before I would tell myself, just after winding down and just before going to sleep, that I was grateful to wake the next morning, feeling refreshed, ready to go downstairs and get my coffee, at five a.m.

And it worked.

It still does, although it works better when I immediately haul my butt out of bed instead of telling myself when I wake that I really could use that extra half hour, and no, it really won’t matter that much if I take it.

But anyway, I woke just before half-past five today. Good stuff.

250 fiction words, 355 total words

The words were competing with Mindhunter yesterday. I’m enjoying the show and wish they decided to make the season longer than 10 episodes. I still have one to go, so no spoilers, please. I’m still waiting for the main character, Ford, to become one of the murderers they’re interviewing. There’s just something about him.

I didn’t write for four days in a row last week. Reasons, excuses, blah, blah, blah.I’m hoping to get back into things today. There’s a short story I should have no problem fixing and a longer one that needs surgery (although that may wait until after November at this point).

I hope everyone has a lovely start to their week. It looks like there’s a shelf in my living room calling my name this morning, wouldn’t you know. More books to give away, most likely. I can see one, at least, that I’ll likely never get back to, and there’s a whole ‘nother row behind that one.

October fiction total:  5,713
September fiction total:
August fiction total:
July fiction total:
June fiction total:  10,577
May fiction total:  
April fiction total:  
March fiction total:
February fiction total:  9,217
January fiction total:  18,615
2017 fiction total:  146,095