And they call me a writer! Ha!

As if I actually, you know, write stuff.

Hey People!

Remember, way back when, when I actually, you know, wrote stuff?

By “stuff” I mean paragraphs longer than 140 characters, or a comment on somebody’s Facebook status, or your average lesson plan.

Most of you probably can’t even remember back that far, but I assure you that it was a freaking blast. A veritable literary shindig, if you will. I used to feel all writerly in my gorgeous, fashion forward NaNo Wardrobe, and I was actually proud of that clutter next to my computer. I’d sit in my computer chair, with the dog stuffed behind me as lumbar support (that was serendipitous, at first it was just to keep him from barking and/or stealing while I neglected him) crank up the soundtrack for my WIP (work in progress), and, actually, you know, write stuff. 

And then. . .

Well, I don’t know what happened. 

Well, maybe I do. I don’t mean to complain. But:

• I got writer’s block.
• I got rejected.
• I got busy.
• I got distracted.

I know what you’re thinking about those last two. What writer isn’t distracted and busy? But no kidding. Life got extra rough for a while, and I have a commute that knocks the daylights out of me.

And I hate to bring this up again, but there was that whole Mount Manischewitz thing, which was no joke, and I have the photo to prove it. 

But I digress. 

My point is, it’s time to get back on the writing wagon. But with things being the way they are, I decided to take baby steps.

So, last week I:

• Had jury duty (talk about a muse feeder).
• Bought Beyond Heaving Bosoms.
• Made notes in my plotting notebook (and I used pens with glittery ink – not sure what that says about me).

Then today, after a hellish few days at work and several nights of hardly any sleep, I found a note on my Facebook wall from Karen. She wanted to know if I was up for a Wiffer writing challenge. 

Um, well, no. I am not. What I am is exhausted and hyper, and in that state where I’m buzzing around my apartment even though my eyelids are drooping. I may literally hit a wall. 

Yes, Karen. I must commend you on your fabulous timing.

But I’ll do it.

I am, after all, a Wiffer. And I have a huge dent in my credit card thanks to the registration for RWA Nationals. 

And, well, to be honest, I’d like to think that I just may, in spite of everything, still be a writer.

I’ll post my May Writing Goals shortly. But for now, I’m taking a pledge to actually, you know, write stuff.

How’s that?

P.S. Anybody have a name for my Wiffer Bear? I have a feeling I’m going to need him this month.

Go Wiffers!