I am 1/5 of the way there for this novel. I have to admit some parts are fucking nuts and don’t make sense. I also did a little prologue about how this supernatural universe was created and it’s pretty wonky, weird, I don’t know if it makes sense to fit with the novel since it has next to nothing to do with the main plot… yet? We shall see. It is crazy trippy and totally spits in the faces of origin myths/stories that exist for main religions. Oh well! I did it anyway.

My poor boyfriend is making dinner and isn’t used to hearing me so silent tapping away on my keyboard, seeing indiscernible scrawl in my notebooks and eating this much candy. This is my life right now. This month I have to do this because I’ve been putting it off and letting my procrastination win. I admit that the Cubs win and the Ireland win in the face of adversity is inspiring me. If these underdogs can make it work, so can I.

I have to do it for me. No more writing on message boards where only a few people can see it and where I get caught up on photos and skip entire plot points. I am going to keep writing ridiculous novels and one day get them edited and published. That’s the goal. Still can’t get over how crazy my novel is sounding so far. I have to tell my internal critic to shut up all the damn time!

Thank to NaNoWriMo for kicking me into gear and the Chicago chapter for being there for me this week in my time of need.


Am I Still A Writer?

I used to write like all the time and I used to write on these message boards for other people. Occasionally, I think about all my cool ideas I would have and now I don’t write much in regards to fiction and it concerns me immensely. Am I no longer a writer anymore? I journal less and I haven’t kept up with any of my ideas as I intended. But I can’t go back to writing on a message board. Its time had to end, it felt like I wasn’t accomplishing anything.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I need inspiration. I follow writers on all types of social media and it all hits me but I haven’t gone to a blank sheet to write out these ideas more thoroughly. What is it that’s stalling me?

Of course, this thought enters my brain when I am looking at psychology programs because I am seriously considering getting my master’s. My therapist prompted me to seek out a career instead of just a job doing whatever. I like working at a school, I like working with kids. I don’t like having a classroom. I do like working in small groups. Talking to kids on an emotional level, sharing stories, and taking a break from the curriculum. Ideally, I wish I could do art therapy with them or something along those lines but being a school psychologist I could ask the schools what they expect of me and see if our missions align.

As my interest was peeked and I asked the associate chair of the program my questions, she mentioned the books she wrote about neuropsychology. I thought about my book plans in the past. These novels in my head, unfinished and unwritten.

NaNoWriMo approaches and I have yet to ever finish a novel. Will I constantly be chasing these novels in my head or can I manage to get one down? If I go to school, I’ll have a lot less down time and I have loads now but I still haven’t done it. I am just scared these ideas will float away into the ether.

Can I even call myself a writer anymore?

“The Voice of Our Generation”

Whenever a review claims that a writer/poet/etc. is the “voice of our generation”, it’s already setting up that body of work to fail. How can one person’s voice embody the perspective and clarity of thousands or millions of people? It’s unfair to that particular writer and it’s unfair to the reader. These high expectations are now in place and if that writer doesn’t make room for my particular view, I wonder why that label was placed. This is what happened when I finished reading The Opposite of Loneliness: Essays and Stories by Marina Keegan.

It must be said that it has been about six months since I read this particular book. I enjoyed one or two short stories, then her essay that the title comes from was also inspiring. Many reviews and comments talked about how this gifted writer was taken from the world too soon by a car accident. I understand the tragedy. I can’t imagine graduating college only to be pulled from this universe. There is so much I want to accomplish and it reminds me how fucking short life is. But please don’t label her privileged voice as the voice of my generation!

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