NUMBER FIFTY!

Amazing.

No, really . . . simply amazing.

Amazing to me, that is. When I first came here, I had unsuccessfully tried to blog on different platforms, literally, for years. Writing on all of those platforms had been a chore.

Tedious.

Overwhelming.

I would write one article, two, maybe three. I don't think that I ever succeeded at posting a half-dozen anywhere before I got tired of the struggle. I'd abandon the whole thing and go back to my website. After a short time, I would think, "you know, I need to have a blog to round this thing out." Then, it would start all over again.

Don't ask me how I found Vocal. I think it was from someone's post on Medium, maybe, but I remember it was a post that informed readers how great Vocal was to join.

Ease of use.

Bonuses.

Pay per article, but with retention of copyright.

I mean, how could I go wrong? Somehow, I managed to "go wrong." I lost the address to the website. How? Don't ask me. When it comes to computer things, I'm talented that way. Ask me about goat FAMACHA or dog color genetics and I can go on for hours. Ask me about finding a file in the computer history and I will give you my patented response: "Huh?"

Nevertheless, I found my way back to Vocal. I posted my first article. Then another. Subscribed to Vocal+. Posted more articles. Got a bonus. Posted more articles. Found subscribers. Got a pledge. Wow . . . I start to think, "Maybe, just maybe, I can do this." And I have! Fifty articles--this one being number fifty--under my belt and another easy fifty to come! My next one is all-but written, but I had to take the time to celebrate myself.

Sure, I've taken breaks along the way. Once, I was gone for several months. That was back in the early days, when I wasn't certain what I had to say. I don't have that doubt any longer. I have a list of a dozen articles to produce at any given time. For every single one I write, another three or four make their way to the list. Now, if I take a "break," it's because I can't maintain my quota while writing something complex, like my article on breeding dogs or when I write fiction. It's hard to stay away, even though I tell myself that Saturdays and Sundays are strictly for outside stuff and dog stuff and, eventually, agility lessons. Vocal has become part of my daily life, whether I like it or not (and I do, like it)!

Sure, I could maybe actually make money if I tried to post an article or more daily--but that's not how I operate. I have to savor my words, find what feels right for I want to say before I can even think about publishing them. Involved topics get involved research, even when I know the topic well. I love to write. I love to write well. My first reader often complains that my first copy is too "clean;" there's nothing for her to do other than comment on little things, like character development, plot, continuity, and detail. That's not to say that I don't need a second draft, to add physical descriptions of characters and settings, if I'm writing fiction. It just means that I'm a bit of a perfectionist about some things and am willing to let other things slide. It worked for du Maurier, in Rebecca, didn't it? But then again . . . rhododendrons.

The nice thing about this Vocal "thing" is that I have once again trained myself to write. Back when I was a student and, later, when I was working hard for someone else, I found it too easy to say, "nope, can't write today," and go along my merry way. Now, I find myself writing five days each week, and missing my time when I can't do it. I can write more. I will write more. Right now, I have made a contract with myself for two hours each day that I write. It's not enough time, but it's what I have. Over time, I will expand that time, first to three hours, then to four, adding my increasing hours in the evening when I've fulfilled my obligation to all and sundry.

Right now, I write for one hour a day blogging on Vocal. Yes, editing my pictures counts as "writing." Editing counts as "writing." Captioning counts as "writing." As long as my seat is in the chair, it's all good. I'm fulfilling my contract with myself and not playing computer games or eating. It's a satisfying feeling, quickly developing into one I love. My second hour is spent working on a novel that has percolated in the back of my head for a really, really, really, really long time. It's good. I like it. I like it enough to maybe devote another hour to it at night. Fifteen minutes a night might be just enough to get me started. We'll see.

Vocal is my home now. I'm settling in and making my corner all my own. I hope it's okay. You're welcome to come in and visit any time you would like to do so, if you don't mind pushing a dog off the furniture. I hope to see you soon!

(Sorry about the dog hairs. In my world, they're glitter. And condiments. And a way to turn a solid-colored couch roan.)