48 Hours

Assuming you're considering beginning The Artist's Way with me on Monday morning, and assuming my math isn't wrong -- which, people, it so often is -- you have about 48 hours to decide and get ready. Here's my suggestion: Just do it.

If you haven't done it before, you have questions. Fine. Don't assume you need to have all the answers before you start. I will be thrilled to answer what I can. Email me. Call me. Comment here. I'll be around.

Don't negotiate with yourself up front. Don't say, "I'll do this, but not that." Make those decisions one at a time, when you're actually standing on The Cliff of Do or Not Do.

Jump. Or don't jump. I read somewhere that the word "decision" comes from the same place as "scizzors" -- the moment of decision is a quick cut. You choose. You change. You move on.

Don't dither. (I know whereof I speak on this one, I, the Dither Queen.)

Don't worry about "doing it right" either. If there's someone out there doing the Artist's Way absolutely perfectly, well, good for them. Their glove compartment is probably organized alphabetically, too. The rest of us are going to give it our best and love ourselves for it.

Get the book. It's everywhere. It may well be on you own bookshelf. Sign the the commitment thing. I HATE that. I feel like such a GEEK. Do it anyway. It's good for you. Artists are the geeks of the world sometimes. And that's cool.

If I hear from you that you're in, you'll receive an invitation from me and Blogger to post on this blog. Plan to post. Otherwise, it'll just be me blathering. I get tired of listening to myself. In any case, feel free to comment. I believe I've opened up comments so you can do it easily without signing up. You'll have to copy one of those stupid 32WRll number/letter things so Blogger knows you're not a spambot or whatever. If I don't hear from you that you're in, I'll be off your case and we'll get together on a Lake Day or whatever.

Let's go, team. We have 47 hours. And counting