Live like You Were Dying: The Only Way to Succeed in Life

Holy shit, where is our ranty, bitchy,
sarcastic Renee and who is this nauseating woman who’s taken her place talking
about “you can do it” and uplifting crap like that?






Fear not,
the Renee you’ve become accustomed to is still here. She’s just thinking out
loud…again. Yes, this will be somewhat motivational and positive (at least that’s
the goal), but please do stick around anyway, because I still have profanity
and margaritas.


Also, there
will be rants to come. I promise. Actually, I’d intended to rant today, but
then this song came on the radio when I was at my parents’ house this morning to let their dog
out and “sit” with her for a minute. My mom’s a little neurotic, and she
worried poor little Lucy will get lonely if someone isn’t there every few hours
to talk to her and shit. Anyway, this morning (because of recent personal
events) the song made me cry. Usually though, this song makes me smile. Why? Allow
me a bit of rambling.





Some of you
may not have the time to listen to the song, or you might be at work and can’t
blast it. So here’s the lyrics:






Live Like You Were Dying
Tim McGraw






He said I
was in my early forties,
With a lot
of life before me,



And a
moment came that stopped me on a dime.



I spent
most of the next days,



Looking at
the x-rays,



And talking
about the options, and talking about sweet time.



I asked him
when it sank in,



That this
might really be the real end,



How’s it
hit you when you get that kind of news?



Man what’d
you do?






(Chorus) And
he said: I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,
 I went two point seven seconds on a bull named
Fu Man Chu.



 And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,



 And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying,



 And he said some day, I hope you get the
chance,



 To live like you were dying.






He said: I
was finally the husband,
That most
the time I wasn’t,



And I
became a friend a friend would like to have.



And all of
a sudden going fishing,



Wasn’t such
an imposition



And I went
three times that year I lost my Dad.



Well, I
finally read the good Book,



And I took
a good long hard look,



At what I'd
do if I could do it all again,



And then,






(Chorus)




Like
tomorrow was a gift,



And you got eternity,



To think about what you’d do with it.



And what did you do with it?



And what can I do with it?



And what would I do with it?






(Chorus)



That last
bit, “Like tomorrow was a gift and you got eternity to think about what you’d
do with it…” is the way I’ve viewed things for the past ten years or so. Sure,
sometimes it’s easy to fall into the “I wish” and “It’s not fair” mindset, and I
do that more often than I should, but most of the time, I look at life in terms
of what if once it’s all over, someone asks me “What did you do with it?” How
would I answer that question?



How would
you answer that question?



What does
this have to do with writing? Well, everything really. This is a tough
industry. I’ve said so many times, and I’ve bitched and moaned and cried about
how hard it is to achieve what I want. But, at the end of the day, I don’t
believe that there is any possibility that I’ll fail, because I’ve already
succeeded.
 



I’ve
thought about this a lot. When you work in manic mode like I do, you have some
pretty intense emotions from time to time, and sometimes I find myself in that
big cozy pit of despair thinking I’ve been a fool, and all that other
self-pitying nonsense that we like to wallow in occasionally. I begin thinking
about what I’ve done and what good it’s brought me, and then I think about this
song, and I’m out of that pit and feeling quite pleased with myself. Of course,
I should explain.






I’ve had
some interesting feedback on OFW. Most of it has been good, but I’ve also had a
few “friends” tell me it’s a failure waiting to happen. Sometimes it’s tempting
to believe that when I’m dealing with glitches and whatnot, which can I just
say, suck ass big time. Anyone wanting to start a website, be warned:
Technology is a bastard. It hates you and it will make you as miserable as it
can.



Anyway, I
was talking about OFW. I actually had a couple of rather hateful emails and private
messages on Goodreads because we took our group there and moved it to the site.
I’ve been told that it will never take off, it will never pay, and I’m a fool
for busting my ass for nothing. One person told me I was an arrogant bitch.
Another asked what did I think I had to offer writers that more experienced
(and established) authors could not? A few told me I’d ruin my chances of
publishing. Hmm. Okay. No, it doesn’t pay. It costs. It costs time, energy,
money, and sometimes brain cells and I’m pretty sure a part of my soul is
forever lost. It’s been largely thankless, and it is monstrous, and some days,
I’d like to throw in the towel and never hear the words “On Fiction Writing”
ever again.



But I love
it.



It’s
something that, ten years ago, hell even just five years ago, I’d never have
considered. I too would have said, “Who the fuck am I to run a website for
writers? I haven’t published shit, so what gives me the right to give my
opinion?” Today I say, “Who the fuck are you to say I can’t? Thanks for your
opinion, you giant jealous douche. I’ll file it where it belongs. At least I
tried to take what I wanted out of life.” If it doesn’t take off, if we decide
to shut the whole works down; it’s still not a failure. The minute we had one
member, I succeeded in what I wanted to do. The rest is just a bonus. I love
writing the articles, I love debating with other authors, I even love begging
for interviews (sort of), and I love it when I get feedback like this. This single blog post is enough for me
to feel as though I’ve succeeded, no matter what happens after this point.



I have like
ten manuscripts that are finished. Six or seven of those are polished and (in
my opinion) publishable. I have far more half-written manuscripts than I should.
Someone once kindly pointed out that if they weren’t published, then they were
a waste of time. To them I say, “And fuck you too, asshat.” Nothing is a waste
of time if you love doing it. I loved every second of that writing. If I don’t
find an agent, or I never publish traditionally as I want to do (not as I have to do, but as I choose to do at this point), I’m going
to be pissed, and I won’t pretend that the thought doesn’t bother me. I’m sure
there are many ranty blog posts in my future, mostly because I enjoy ranting.
But I will not see it as failure. I’ve succeeded already. I’ve written books, I’ve
written articles, and I’ve been paid for my writing. Actually, writing is my
full time job now. It pays the bills (most of the time) and “writer” is what the
government calls my job position. It’s not exactly what I wanted, but it’s
success nonetheless.



I used to
be a cautious person. I was careful what I said and who I said it to. I was
careful not to offend anyone, and I never went for anything that I thought
there was the tiniest change I might fail at. I never took risks. I settled for
what I thought I deserved, and not what I really wanted and needed. And I was
miserable.



When I
changed my thinking, and I took a “no holds barred” view on life, my confidence
went up, and my misery went down. It’s simple really. You don’t have to be all
crazy and jump out of a plane (who would jump from a perfectly good plane
anyway?) or go ride some beast of death, but you do owe it to yourself to do
what you know will make you happy; what makes you feel alive. Don’t be afraid of
failure.




Failure is living
life so cautiously that you never do anything.
Failure is
never feeling (good or bad) emotions so intense you think you might die or
explode.



Failure is
wishing for good things, but never actively going after them.



Failure is never
waking up long enough to make your dreams to come true.



Failure is
not taking a chance.






Failure is not a four letter word. Fear is.


If someone
asks you what you did with life, can you say you at least tried your best to
live like you were dying? If the answer is yes, then failure is impossible.






Lesson
over. I’ve saved the rant for another day. Stay tuned.