Please join me in giving Nancy a warm welcome.
The Blank Page
by Nancy Northcott

I’ve never been one to look
at every day as the first day of the rest of my life. That’s just too relentlessly upbeat for
me. But after a day or a week or a month
that hasn’t gone well, turning to a new, blank page is a way to draw a line
under what came before and start fresh.
A perfect example, and one
many of us think about at this time of year, is weight loss. When I worked as a weight loss counselor, I
used to tell people not to get upset if they slipped up one day and totally
blew their eating plans. Getting back on
track the next day, on the next blank page or box of the calendar, can help
salvage the rest of the week. It’s
damage control, and I think it’s easier when there’s a new, clean page to be
written on.
Some people make their new
starts by listing resolutions. I’m prone
to overreach when I do that, so I’ve started making general plans instead. There’s something about resolutions that feel
rigid to me, as though a single slip-up voids progress. Plans seem much more flexible.

I also want to get back to
the Okefenokee and to Brunswick and Savannah so I can do research for the Light
Mage Wars. I love seeing these places
through the characters’ eyes and figuring out how my imaginary people will
interact with these surroundings.
There are other blank pages
than the ones on calendars, of course. Artists
start with blank canvases. So do
needlepointers and embroiderers, though they use different kinds of
canvases. For a cook who loves inventing
dishes, the blank recipe card waits to be filled.
Writers confront blank pages
all the time, ones we need to fill with words.
Those pages are both invitation and challenge, and the words come more
easily some days than others.
Do you make plans or
resolutions? Do they ever involve blank
pages or canvases? What are you looking toward for this year?