It’s true, Gentle Reader, that I count Sundays as the beginning of the week. I organize my planner on Sundays; I make my plans for the week on Sundays; I start on Sundays. So considering this is the start of my new year–Spring Semester, and all its plans–I need to work as I planned for the new year.
This means writing again.
It’s one of the reasons I’m on the blog right now: to ease my way back into writing. Friends, it’s been so long. I’ve revised; I’ve planned; I’ve read. But I haven’t written, not really. And I now have a self-imposed deadline of March to finish Marvel among the Demons and send it to my fabulous agent (the deadline is real when I tell him about it, which I did!). That means writing, and writing hard, for the next three months.
I admit. I’m scared. I’m a writer, which means raging egotism coupled with crippling social anxiety. I know I’m good (but what if I’m not?). I can write (but maybe not anymore?). It’s awful. It plagues me.
And I know: sit my butt in a chair, put my hands on a keyboard, and just WORK. Every day. That’s how words get on pages. It’s a tried and true plan. And I’m ready to start it. Today.
(But I’m not ready?)
The Postmodern Bluestocking 