NaNoWriMo didn’t go as “planned.”

Every year for the past few years I plan to do NaNoWriMo. By plan I mean I think about doing it for a few weeks then all of a sudden it’s November 1st. It’s either that or I realize it’s November and I make a 

half-assed attempt to continue writing the story I’ve been working on and do 50k in addition to what I already have. 

As you’ve probably guessed, neither of those have worked. This year, I again found myself on November 1st without a solid plan. For good reason, I’m struggling through an 8:30 to 5 job with a grueling commute and I. Am. Tired. (More on this at a later time)

Anyway it was November 1st and I was sitting at work bored and feeling inspired. So I started writing. I didn’t plan or give myself time to work and rework the plot, I decided—for the first time—to really truly pants my way into a story. Aannnd it’s been not bad! But as I write this on Black Friday, I’m only about 7300 words in….oops?

On the plus side, it’s been a long time time since I’ve written this much in 3 weeks, so yay for that. But sometime last week, I really started questioning myself and whether I was cut out to be an author. And worse, whether it was something I even wanted. I’ve never finished a full story from beginning to end.

I’m not sure of very many things in my life. But I’ve been sure about writing since 2014 and that moment of doubt I had this month really threw me for a loop…and it was the final kick in the ass I needed to get this blog up as running. This is obviously not fiction, but I want my writing out in the world no matter the format.

I’m not going to hit 50k words this November and I don’t know that I ever thought I would. I really just wanted to write everyday and write every crazy thing I could come up with. The latter has been fun. I think I wear myself out by trying to get the story perfect on the first go and I know that’s impossible. I need to make some mistakes and grow and carve out what it is I’m actually trying to say.

I’m going to keep doing this for now, editing might be a bitch if I get to that stage. But I need to stretch my creative legs a little without the self imposed pressure of wanting to be done with a story and published ASAP.

So if you need me, I’ll be over here. Writing.




If I had to describe 2017 so far in one word, it would be tiring. Anymore than that and I would be waxing poetic about the emotional trauma of an unstable and prejudiced society. But I won’t because even talking about 2017 is exhausting.

I’ve been wanting to write a blog for a while, this whole year actually. But I can never seem to come up with things to write about. Most things seem so trivial when the president is goading a maniac with the power to bomb neighboring countries if not US territories (on TWITTER!). When he’s not doing that, he’s being blatantly racist and/or stupid.

Then there’s congress which…I can’t.

So yeah, 2017 is hard and I’m longing for the days of Obama, when the government fucked up every now and again, but at least I could live under the assumption that the people in Washington knew how to do their jobs–even when they chose not to do it well.

So what does one blog about at a climate like this?

 Books? Writing? Makeup? Skincare? Recent grad frustrations?

All of the above with a side dish of politics?

Honestly, I don’t know. I can’t give you inspirational quotes and tips on how to achieve your goals because I don’t know what works. We’re all on the same journey.

All I know is I need to start.

So welcome, and we’ll see what happens.