I’ve decided to take on a new project. And in the grand tradition of my previous projects, I’m sure this one will be a spectacular failure. Mostly because I suck at commitment, but also because I have the attention span of a gnat on quaaludes.
During the month of April, I’ve decided to tackle my own version of National Blog Publishing Month. Traditionally, sadists in the writing world do NaBloPuMo in November in conjunction with National Novel Writing Month, but I don’t hate myself that much. November is an evil month full of deadlines and tests and turkey murder, and I can only dedicate about a quarter of brain capacity to writing during that time. So April it is.
This commitment means that I plan to write every day no matter how tired, uninspired, and unfunny I feel. I know I can do it–mostly because I’ve successfully completed NaNoWriMo and that has some batshit crazy rules. Like 1667 words per day for 30 days, or whatever it takes to get to 50,000 words by midnight on November 30.
And it, um, nearly killed me. Well, figuratively, I guess. I was 8 months pregnant with Boo at the time and had to get up to pee every 15 minutes. That’s not exactly good for your writing momentum, or your wordcount. But sweet baby Jesus, I did it. And now Boo has a particular fondness for angry 80s throwback metal music because I listened to a lot of Avenged Sevenfold that month. So…prenatal win?
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go start procrastinating. Because not meeting deadlines doesn’t get done by itself.