I seem to be doing a lot of Daily Prompts lately.
In any event, I’m writing myself a pass for it: I’ve got a bad wristache. Don’t know how or why but it’s stopping the pen-to-paper I employ with poetry. I’d like to be ambidextrous, but my left-hand writing looks like the writing of a three-year old. One who is trying to write but cannot.
Anyway. My boastful moment comes from the fact that I have blogged daily for several months now. It’s become habit to blog now. Even in the deepest fogs of sleepiness or the longest days I can muster, I still claw together something.
I’m proud of myself for sticking to it. It wasn’t a goal: I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions, nor any other kind of goal dictated by what time of year it is. It was just…. something I was meaning to do. Blog more, I told myself.
And I did. I came up with new schedules (still refining it) and scrounged in the recesses of my mind for 2am ideas.
Can I take a second moment to boast? Yes? Oh, thank you.
I’m also pretty proud of the fact that I haven’t simply abandoned the baby NaNoWriMo I began last year. I kept working on… well, not the thing itself but certainly how to develop it. In case you are wondering, this is the one which mutated, several thousand words in, and ran off to another time period in another country with a sudden protagonist who might actually be an antagonist.
Or, you know, vice versa.
It’s continued to mutate, running off and becoming a series which involves several novels and a few short stories/novellas.
It’s just a matter of writing the damned thing now.