Yesterday was a lovely fall day. Today is an overcast, chilly fall day. I love how schizo it is in Colorado.
The writing group meets tonight. I try to write in one form or another every day. Writing doesn't have to be just fiction, emails, letters, journals, ranting in the newspaper, blogging, and it sure as hell doesn't have to be nothing but Facebook crapola. Write cafeteria-style. A little of this and a dab of that every day. When I think about all the solid ways to work writing into your life, the list is long. After trying to name the different ways to approach journaling, I sat slackjawed in awe. (a common condition, possibly genetic in nature)
I make lists. Lots of lists. It's a form of disposable journaling, in a way. There's probably a medication for list-writing that I should be taking in heavy doses. I used to write lots of letters. The real kind with a stamp. I'm down to two regular correspondents now. Sad that people have time for bad television and social networking but they can't spend 15 minutes writing something tangible and lasting.
What I want to do is finish my book. I have all the body parts on the table but I can't get them assembled into the creature I want. Frankenbook. Frankenbecky. Frankenfuckit. Did I ever mention that I swear? It's a disgusting habit that only death will cure.
If you're a writer, then write. Do it because it'll make us both happy.
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