• Image of a broken pencil with the words "oh shit". The former is no excuse for not writing, but the latter was my response to it.
    Lifestyle,  Writing

    I Didn’t Write Last Month.

    I didn’t write last month. At least not enough to merit a pat on the back or the chocolates I keep as a reward for every 1000 words written. (I’ve set the bar low here, people.) The irony of the situation is that the month of November was National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo as it’s referred to in the writing community. If things has gone as planned, I’d be sitting back, as I did last November, celebrating at least 50,000 words of utter crap. I can work with a pile of utter crap. Instead, I have barely 5,000 words of nonsensical crap and a half-eaten (an unearned) bag of…

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  • Writing

    One Last NaNoWriMo Attempt with Pants(ing)

    They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. Well, here I go again, down the same path of insanity, but this time I’m hoping for a different outcome than the last by changing up one little thing. Kind of. What is this path, you ask? Well, today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal of NaNoWriMo is to squeeze out the first draft of your novel – 50,000 words worth of it, at least – in the month of November. That works out to about 1,667 words a day, give or…

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  • deprivation

    So, About Media & Book Deprivation Week (A Diary)

    As I mentioned in a post last week, I’m working through through The Artist’s Way with a group of creative friends on Facebook. Week Four fell on February 25-March 3 and was to be my “media & book deprivation week”. The intent was to not read and not fall into the abyss that is social media, which would then allow my internal creativity to explode, and I would write and write and write. Yeah, so about that. A big part of The Artist’s Way are the Morning Pages, a sort of brain dump where you write whatever is in your head – at least three pages worth. If you have…

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  • Writing

    Thoughts From My Third Erma Bombeck Writers’ Conference

    When I was a kid, time was measured in countdowns – how many days until summer vacation, until my birthday, until Santa came. As an adult, time is still measured the same – how many days until I turn 50 (75, should anyone want to send me chocolate), until my next hair appointment where I can get the grays colored (13) and how many days (roughly) until I can attend the next Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop (approximately 715, give or take a week). The conference is three of the most inspiring, uplifting, positive learning- and laugh-filled days of my life. It’s definitely a roller-coaster of emotions, too, as feelings swing…

  • Writing

    This Month I’m Participating in NaNoWriBloPoDoSomeMoMo. (I’m Writing)

    The first of November brings many things: a belly ache from over-consumption of the kids’ Trick-or-Treat candy (which, surprisingly, does NOT mix well with the margaritas I consumed to survive three hours of doorbell ringing); the lethargic gathering of Halloween decorations from around the house, which will typically sit on the hall bench for another few days until I find the energy to dig out the “Halloween decorations” bin from the garage; a panicked, anxious and last-minute sign up for “NaNoWriMo”, which stand for “National Novel Writing Month”, where I commit to writing about 2000 words a day, attempting to complete a novel; the alternate desperate commitment to participate in “NaBloPoMo”…

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  • Writing

    Losing the Artist Within

    When I was twelve years old, I thought I would be an art teacher when I grew up. Perhaps I would illustrate children’s stories, maybe create great paintings. I loved to draw and thought that whatever I did, it would involve art. I was always drawing, doodling and creating. I filled notebooks with images. I would draw pictures and sell them to my classmates for twenty-five cents (unknowingly filling the stereotype of the struggling artist.)  With a good friend I co-wrote and illustrated a “magazine” or two that may or may not have included less than kind fictional stories about a fellow classmate (which may or may not have landed me in Sister Patriciana’s office,…