I wanted to participate in NaNoWriMo, but then my laptop died. And then the election happened. And I found myself at a true loss for words. (And my laptop still isn’t working, so there’s that problem too.)
So no NaNoWriMo for me this year. I’m not writing the next great American novel, or even the next mediocre but entertaining middle grade fiction about talking animals having adventures (that is the book my 8-year-old wants me to write).
So where does that leave me? My head–actually my whole body–feels full to the brim with things I can’t say or won’t say or shouldn’t say or don’t know how to say. So all that comes out is the mundane. Like, I can tell you about my day and the minor irritations of children and husbands and dogs and work. But I can’t tell you about my biggest hopes and dreams. Why is that?
I think maybe it’s time to use some writing prompts and basically just free write. It will probably look like word vomit on the page for a while, but I need to exercise this muscle. Please bear with the project. (Or don’t. It actually doesn’t matter.)