Wednesday, June 15, 2011

*blows dust off* this thing on?

I have OBVIOUSLY fallen completely off the map. A couple of months ago, I put my stake in the ground, decided I'm going to do this and then... *insert bomb-drop sound effect here*

Life turned a bit sideways on me.

I've decided that I am currently in the dusting off the important pieces and putting everything back on the shelf where I need it to be stage so that I can get back to this whole...writing...thing. Two jobs, a kid, a husband with chronic health issues, and the ability to write fanfic (which keeps pulling me back in because it's so frakking fun...and rewarding) has given me all the excuses I need to not write anything else.

(I'm working on not saying "write anything original" when talking about non-fanfic writing because I believe fanfic writing is original...I can differentiate it in other ways, yes?)

So. A friend of mine sent me a link to Writer's Digest's short story contest. The due date is November 15th, and there is a registration fee, but...I think I'm going to join. Here's the link if anyone reading this (assuming those of you who were reading haven't given up on me) is interested in checking it out:

I am under no delusion of winning anything, but I think I need that match struck against the kindling of words in my soul to relight the fire of storytelling in my blood. I keep thinking of different angles and different additions for Gone -- even different titles. I'll be on a conference call, or driving to Bible School, or vacuuming copious amounts of dog hair and I'll find myself thinking, Grace needs to leave Michael a message on his answering machine that he doesn't hear until it's too late and that's his catalyst for finding the journals.

I'll go write it down on one of about 457 stickie notes but do I stop my head-down push through life long enough to write it out? No. No I don't. Why? I DON'T KNOW!!

What happened to 'no more excuses'...what happened to my New Year's Resolution?!

*kicks at carpet, frustrated with self*

So, I think I'll enter this short story contest, and I think that next Sunday's four hours of writing will not be spent creating something for Dean and Sam to battle against. It will be time spent with Grace, Michael, Ryan, and Sara.

Why does that terrify me?