My messed-up imagination
Because I am doped up on cold and flu medicines, my equilibrium is off, and I’m feeling rather spacey, I’m going to use my blog here to just rant about nothing. Nothing that makes sense to anyone else anyway. And if it’s really bad, when I come to, I may take this down. I don’t know.
In any event, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve got a really messed-up imagination. By Christian and non-Christian standards, you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff that I’ve written. Some of it’s so far-fetched that it simply boggles the mind that I could have come up with it to begin with. Some of it’s incredulous. I need to go up to the loft, dig up some of the stuff I wrote (as in literally—wrote by hand) when I was a preteen, and type it all out. I’ve written 200-300 looseleaf pages of a novel. None of it will ever see the light of day because the stuff rivals L. Ron Hubbard’s books for believability. And they’re so embarrassingly bad. Want to blackmail me? Get your hands on some of that stuff. I’d turn darker than an a red delicious.
I have a storyline running through my mind. Different stories have been running through my mind at different times since I was 12. I may take every NaNoWriMo that comes along and actually put it on paper. Heaven knows I have the characters, plot, subplot, and conflict to keep it going to 50,000 words. Ending it may be the difficult part.
It’s October 22 and I’m not working steadily for the ad agency. Last year at this time I was so it’ll be interesting to see if I can crap out 50K words by November 15. (Although I doubt it.) Last year, I finished my novel just under 50K and had to keep writing nonsense to hit the 50K word mark. It’s a novel no one will probably ever see or read but it’s part of that running storyline I have in my head.
So I may just take some time off from revising my current novel to do NaNo. I’ll probably go it alone this year instead of attending write-ins like I’ve done in the past. But I’m rambling out of a head filled with DayQuil and Theraflu. Writing a chapter in my novel should prove to either be interesting or a challenge.
Now that I know what I want to write for NaNo, I can’t wait to get started. A coming-of-age story about a 14-year-old rich girl on Long Island. (Not autobiographical at all.)
November 1 can’t get here soon enough.