Insecurities and Commitment

I'm having a flare-up of insecurity.  I wish it would keep itself in check until the first Wednesday of the month.  But here it is.

Things are happening quickly, and it's making me nervous.

This Saturday, I start graduate school.  I've been out of school since the early 90's.  I think I can handle the workload without letting my writing or my laundry slide (well, maybe the laundry will slide, but whatever).  I worry my memory of college classes and how hard they are may be skewed - the way my mind modified the memory of giving birth twice - even after I had strep throat and a broken toe with the first and delivered a baby over ten pounds with the second.  Childbirth never seems that bad once it's over.  I wonder if college is the same.

I wrote the check for my first semester, so it's a done deal.  I'm in for at least one class.

The graduate director advised me to apply for the MA program right away (I'm just in the certificate program now because, well, it had less requirements to get in).  If I wait too long, the classes I take for the certificate won't count for the MA.  The MA only includes 4 additional classes, two of which could be for the ending project - my project will be a novel, which I would have written anyway.  No big deal, right?  It's only 4 extra classes, two of which aren't classes at all.  But in the non-logical segment of my mind, which seems to be dominant today, committing to the MA is huge compared to a certificate. 

Yesterday, my husband ordered me a new ultrabook for school.  It's less than three pounds, about half the weight of my current laptop.  It was a lot of money - which adds extra pressure for me to finish the MA.  My husband says there's no pressure, but I can feel it. 

Last night I went onto the web site for the professor that teaches the novel writing workshop.  He had a lot of articles with really great advice for new authors.  As I read one of the articles, that little voice got in my head and told me my novels don't and won't ever measure up.  It told me I should stop writing now (I'm at 40K words) and reassess the details of my story before writing another word.  Damn you, little voice!

This weekend, I wrote a few new chapters in a journal, probably 6,000 words or more.  This morning I'm going to completely ignore the voice and type up those chapters.  Once I get to the end, I'll reassess and outline and research and revise. 

For now, I need to get it done.  Because next week I might have homework.

Today I am going to commit myself to the MA program.  I'm going to submit my application.  But first, I'm going to write those chapters. 

Moving Along...Then Paused

I was on a roll yesterday doing revisions to my last novel.  I finished yet another round of revisions to chapters 1 and 2.  I attempted to print them - I have old eyes that work better on paper than on the monitor.  I seem to skip over errors on the screen that I would otherwise see if they were on paper. 

I attempted to print - no connection.  I rebooted the printer.  Nope.  Again.  No.  I rebooted my computer.  Printer again.  Time was up for writing.  Husband came home for lunch and offered to fix it.  It really was too late.  Time was up.  I gave up for the day.  Later in the evening, he asked me if it printed.  I stared at him and walked away.

Let me say this - although my computer nerd skills have decayed with full time mommyhood, I should be able to get the printer to reconnect.  We have a network in our house, our own email server, an my own web server.  We have two wireless access points.  (Don't ask.)  I may have lost my ability to write a line of code, but I understand the technical aspects of how all of these devices are connected. 

But it's still not working.  And it's dental surgery day for my daughter.  So today I will keep things on pause.