Declaring Victory: Turning Actions into Words

It is May 1, 2014. And on this day, history will remember that I flew my white flag of victory. I unfurled my mission accomplished banner. I started saying that I am successful even if it isn't all-the-way-around true.

Actions speaker louder than words, they say. Or maybe they gesticulate, because that would clearly be a stronger message. They. They. They they they they they. The elusive collective of opinion that apparently is the source of all wisdom. 

They say you have to fake it until you make it. 

From what I have seen all around me, there is a lot of making it just on the horizon, just over the next hill. In the fabled land of Tomorrow, success is erupting like so many romances in a YA novel.

Next month marks my third anniversary of being a professional writer. I have not worked a 'real' job in three years. I have not lifted things for money. I have not stood in a line near machines. I have not carried, cooked, or cleaned up food for pay. I have not sold my precious time an hour at a time for a pittance.

It has not always been great. I have moved through two houses and three 

apartments in that three year stretch. I have ruined my health (what little there was) eating things only just this side of food. I have had roommates, I have had strange living situations. I have crashed on a couch for a month at the extreme grace of some other people. But I have not worked a job in all that time.

Which is not to say I have not worked. I have done things. I have been paid for the things I have done. I have not always made my rent on time or been caught up on all of my bills, but who the hell has? In the same three years that I have been exclusively typing things out of my head for pay I have been making more for each thing I type and each thing I type is more valuable.

I have written over 300 short shorts in that 3 years. I have done a surprisingly competent 50 pages of a novel project (in 6 days) and I have edited or co-wrote things that have won awards, been given grant money, and accepted for publication up and down the spectrum of self-published to major publishing houses to academic journals. Despite all of this, I have never felt particularly good at what I do. I have not felt successful. I have felt like I am lying to myself.

So the faking it until I make I have been doing is faking that I am lousy at things I have done a lot of, and done with a degree of competence. So today, as my various banners get tugged by the wind, I declare that I am done faking it all the way around.

I am making it.

And I have been for going on three years now.

What does this mean? Well, it means it is time to double-down on everything. I have the time, I have the talent, and I have the will so I am just going to keep typing, faster and better each day, until I am not merely surviving but outright thriving.