Writing about writing

You guys, I’m starting grad school in two weeks. Two weeks. Where has this summer gone? I should have my book finished by now… it was on my summer checklist and everything. Well, less a checklist and more a note to myself that read, “Finish your book, idiot.”

Also, the entire point of birthing this website was so I would have a full-grown freelance career. But what did I end up with? A blog that spends the entire day picking its nose, taking up Internet space and contributing nothing to the household.

Get a job, blog.
Get a job, blog.

Maybe if I actually, you know, looked for freelance work, this blog would get up off the couch and do something for me. I have a couple articles I began writing that I could pitch… but have I completed those either? I think we all know the answer to that.

SIGH. Will I have time to keep up this blog? I hope so. The thing is, my “writing brain” is always on. I basically have a whirring disco ball full of bumbling characters that have no idea how to function in this imaginary world I’ve stuck them in. Ideas from my blog run into magazine article ideas and later meet up for drinks with movie ideas and then maybe hook up later with book ideas. It’s like an orgy in my head, man. And it never shuts off. It’s like the all-orgy channel.

Okay, that metaphor just went to a weird place. The point I’m laboring to make is if I don’t get those ideas out, they stay stuck in my brain. That’s how people go crazy, probably.

Wait, what am I doing? Dammit, I’m a writer, not a doctor!
Wait, what am I doing? Dammit, I’m a writer, not a doctor!

So for my own safety, I should probably keep writing. That’s a tagline for writers, right?

Writing: It gets the crazy out.

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Well… mostly.

Okay, I lied. I’m back.

This was supposed to be a non-working blog. A place where I display my wares and walk away, like those kiosks in the mall that sell stuff like soap made with salt from the Dead Sea. Then when you pause for a nano-second, because you have an eyelash in your contact or something, they appear from nowhere with a charming yet purposeful air. “May I help you?”

THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ME. I’m creepy sea salt lady.

But I couldn’t stay away! You know how hard it is for a writer to have an audience at her very fingertips and not write?

Clearly impossible.

I have too much on my mind to not write. Let me take you on a tour through my thoughts. Watch your step, it’s sticky.

I got into grad school and start in August which is like a FEW MONTHS away and I’m freaking out.

I loved college. Loved it. But I also worked part time on the weekends, lived at home, and graduated over ten years ago. My brain has got a lot slower since then, I work full-time, I have a house, a husband, a family… ahhhhh! What was I thinking? How am I going to do this? What if I fail? What if I’m the class dummy? What if everyone gets it but me????

See above re: freaking out.

I’m trying to write a book and I can’t find the time/energy to work on it.

I wanted to finish my book before I went back to school. I had a plan. I was going to write such-and-such words a day—not an unreasonable amount, either. A totally doable amount. But I haven’t done it. I was on fire for a few weeks, then pffft. I wrote a book in a freaking month for NaNoWriMo, so I know it can be done. So what’s my problem? Blaaaaarg.

Lastly, the whole point of this blog was to garner some freelance work.

I’ve garnered exactly two things:  1) A woman asking if there are any job openings at my place of employment (there aren’t) and 2) another woman who wrote to me for marriage advice after reading one of my xojane articles. Do I look like f%^&ing Dear Abby? Go see a marriage counselor!

WHAT THE CRAP, Y’ALL.