Half an hour after this storm, the sun was out and it was twenty degrees cooler outside. Inside every cloud there’s a silver lining, when one door closes another opens, blah blah blah…
If you’re tuning in late, here’s the skinny. A few weeks ago I decided to take up a variant of the Bradbury Challenge (writing a short story every week for 52 weeks). I’m going to write a story a week until I have 80,000 words, at which point I’m going to publish the collection on Smashwords.
Last week’s story was The Vase of Melampus.‡ I didn’t quite finish. But I’m not going to call that an epic fail, or even a fail. Why?
Because the reason I didn’t finish The Vase of Melampus is that I got sidetracked writing about 8,000 words on two upcoming fitness/martial arts books. My daily writing goal is 1,000 words a day, so even though I didn’t finish the short story, I smashed my daily output goal.
I’m putting this loss in the win column.
‡Check out Melampus. Trippy, right?
I started studying martial arts in 1986. Soon I had set the goal of achieving the rank of master, and I pursued it with single-minded intent for a long time.
About five years ago I put that goal out of my mind. I directed my focus to founding a new martial art based on Western concepts and ideals, and on building a club rather than a business.
Now that I’ve achieved a master’s rank it seems so less important than it did then. It’s an honor to be sure, and I’m proud.
But what I’m most proud of are the guys who come to the park twice a week rain or shine, in the dark, in blazing sun, in the boiling heat and freezing cold; who brave the bruises and the bugs to work out together.
The honor of their company is far greater than any rank I could every hope to achieve.