Just when I think I can’t go any further ’round the bend or even more batshit crazy, I outdo myself.
In the midst of building my flute studio and homeschooling and blogging and maybe putting together a presentation for SENG 2016 and hooboy we’re how close to Christmas and managing the House of Chaos and shoveling out from under all the miscellaneous crap that procreates on my desk…I’ve decided to take on NaNoWriMo. Because NOTHING says “I’m procrastinating the shit out of writing a non-fiction book that scares me to death” like jumping into the crazy assed activity of writing a novel in a month. In November, no less, the on-deck circle to the holidays. I’m insane, entirely certifiable.
I haven’t written fiction since I picked up a flute, lo those…using fingers and toes and the random office supply…33 years ago. Until I started playing flute I was going to be a writer. I wrote short stories for fun, took writing classes, loved it. Picked up my instrument and whoosh! that was the end of that. All creativity (and spare time) went into the instrument. Nearly ten years ago I started writing this blog for fun. Four years ago I started on If This is a Gift. And in two weeks I’m diving into a monthlong fictionapalooza. It was something that was going to be a blog post, something that made me laugh as I wrote it, something I realized deserved more time and attention. If I don’t do NaNo now it’ll never happen. And because I feel guilty as hell that book #2 (aka The Book That Scares Me Because Who Am I To Write On Self-Care Dear Lord What Do I Know Just Don’t Ever Do What I Do And You’ll Be Fine) is so far behind schedule, I’m planning to dive into that as well and get a goodly portion of it written. I’m hoping the fiction loosens up my brain for the non-fiction.
Needless to say, there will be no NaBloPoMo this year, for the first time in many years. And postings here may be light. I ain’t got that many words in me.
Hold on tight. Here we go.