Throughout my college career, I thought nothing of cranking out 15 page papers in the space of a week. I wrote a course-specific text book in the space of a semester. And, off and on, I worked on my "novel", a sad little piece that since graduation has not seen the light of day. But I found myself craving letters, words, sentences.
Initially, I tried things like 750words.com with the idea that I would dedicate myself to working on my novel a little bit each day. But as sure as I was I could make the word count, when it came down to it, it started to feel more like a chore than something I looked forward to do. I never want writing to be that way to me. The way I wrote in the past was the absolute fury style: I would have inspiration strike at one point, grab my computer, and sit in a cafe for 8 to 10 hours (this is during schooling or unemployment) and crank out paragraph after paragraph. I'd revisit it a week later, revise my work, and then came the dry spells.
Oh the dry spells.
The headaches.
The sleeplessness.
The gosh-awful inclination to eat entire boxes of Girl Scout cookies. (No joke: I polished off two in one sitting at one point without blinking.)
Then was Nanowrimo, short for National Novel Writing Month. I actually was doing pretty well on this one: no revisions, no re-reading work, it was like word vomit for the fiction-obsessed (that sounds a lot gross-er than I meant it to...). And then one night, while sitting in a cafe with other fellow Nanowrimo-ers, my head started to really hurt. I had been tired for a week or so, but I chalked it up to writing so much in the midst of working and studying. And plus, I was right in the middle of this really great scene. I didn't stop. What writer would?
At the end of the night, I finally made it back home and into my bed, fell into a blissful sleep... and didn't wake up for 14 hours. Ladies and gentlemen, I had H1N1. Nanowrimo fell to the wayside of general illness misery.
Once again, my writing suffered.
And after recovering, writing for classes, job applications, and finishing my thesis, I was exhausted. Ready to close up Word for a while and enjoy...under-employment. No. Not fun at all. I picked up two jobs (and I still work both, by the way). That wasn't enough, so I decided to volunteer. Three volunteer positions later, I still felt under utilized. I caught myself reading at every spare moment. Project Gutenberg constantly ran on all my computers at home and work(s), so while something was loading/compiling/I was stalling, I could read a little. My Kindle (a wonderful gift from my ever so thoughtful boyfriend) was/is always with me, with three books in session at all times. From Google News in the morning to my web comics at breakfast to novels at lunch to Thomas.gov in between documents to magazines with dinner... I averaged a book every two days. I even listened to books while working. Yes, I realize I was an idiot for not realizing it sooner - I missed the world of writing desperately.
So, as part of my growth and re-dedication to do things that make me and others happy, I'm writing more, and this blog (obviously) is the embodiment of that wish. Maybe after a little while I'll be able to dust off the ol' novel and take another crack at it. We'll see...
Oh: I finished my "Apply once a week" a little early. Times two! Well, really 1.5. I didn't make successful contact with the one individual, but I did fill out yet another application for a job that though far away, sounds incredible.
And for the record, I am taking more pictures. I now just need to sit down and upload them to try and bring a little more personality to my blog. Maybe that should be the real resolution: share my pictures, not just take them!
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