Returning to the old ways

Back in college, I took my studying rather seriously.

More seriously than my various roommates, my suitemates and pretty much everyone in the dorms where I lived.

I might have been a dork. Not sure....

Anyhow, when I was a kid, I had been lucky enough to have my own room, so I could study in there, door closed, and be most effective.

College was a whole crazy world of living with strangers. After lamenting my issues to my mom, she suggested I try the library on campus.

This sounded awful. I like being in my own space to study. To have my own comforts around.

But desperate for a solution, I packed up a backpack full of books and things, and walked over to the imposing building.

I was just a lowly freshman, and that library was intimidating!

But, as I looked around for a place that might work for good solid studying, I discovered this fabulous feature called a study carrel.

Oh yes.

I could sit in one of these bad boys with the high walls and block out the rest of the world. I could unload my backpack of all my things, set them around me, and create a personal space where I didn't have to see or hear anyone.

In fact, over waaaay in the back, by the microfiche readers, where it was kind of dark, there was one lowly study carrel that was *mine*.

No one else liked it and hardly anyone came over that way. If they did, it was only briefly to read something on microfilm or microfiche, so it was blissfully quiet and I was mostly alone.

I got some really, really good studying done there. I spent HOURS in that carrel...while my friends, uh, had, you know...fun.

Good times, yes.

So, here it was, this past Saturday. The date was the 28th and I was still 5,000 words from the end of this year's National Novel Writing Month challenge of 50,000 words.

The Good Man had to work on Saturday and so I was alone with my imposing battle.

I was really at a standstill on the writing. I hadn't written a word in three days, and it looked like I was not going to make it to the finish line this year.

So, in a bid to change my scenery and thus get the ol' Muse working again, I decided to go to the local library. The went to the one near where The Good Man works so we could meet later for a break.

In I go and I stalked around the place, looking for a good spot. It is a pretty ancient library, so not every table space has a power supply.

My antique Mac needs constant power feed.

So I trudged up to the third floor. I liked it because that floor was behind a closed door. That keeps it nice and quiet.

And lo and behold! They had study carrels. WITH POWER!

Ok! I'm in.

I even found one waaaaay toward the back, where no one else would go, plugged in my power supply, dipped my head behind the walls and got to work.

And who knew, all these many years later, the study carrel still works?

I banged out 4,000 words in about three hours, and would have finished to the end, but had to go meet the in-laws for dinner.

Later that night, after a margarita and some soothing Mexican food, I wrote the final 1,000 words and crossed the finish line of my fifth NaNoWriMo event.

I owe it all to that beautiful, wonderful, magical study carrel!

(terrible iPhone photo, but you can see how sunny and nice it is. I may go there again just because!)

Whoo hooo!

Mama, I'm going to Disneyland!

Oh, ok, not really. I'm actually going to...uh, sleep.

But still, I pulled a rabbit out of my arse hat for the fifth time and completed a 50,000 word novel in less than thirty days!

Thanks to the amazing people at National Novel Writing Month for making it so much fun to rise to the challenge every year!

You are the sum of all your learning

Back in my college days, I lived for a couple years in a sorority house. There were twenty-eight girls, a house mom and a cook. All of that living with a bunch of strangers was quite a life lesson for a nineteen-year-old girl, I assure you.

Those twenty-eight girls came from a variety of different backgrounds, with different values and talents.

Much of what I know and much of who I am can be traced to those days.

Recently, I've had a real dearth of creativity. Like a desert in a drought. My creative mind is dusty. The Muse, she's out to lunch. A two martini lunch.

I'm learning, with the help of my extraordinarily talented and creative cousin, not to worry so much when the creative well has run dry. Be confident, he tells me, and The Muse will find her way home.

I've also gotten suggestions that creating something, anything, can also kick loose that block, get the gravel out, and let the magic happen. (this the basic tenet of the good folks at NaNoWriMo)

And so, when I get all creatively clamped down like this, I often go back to something I learned back in those sorority days.

This great girl from Roswell and I made fast friends (we'd both had to endure the same crazy roommate in separate semesters. This sort of experience bonds people). She'd grown up showing pigs and living on a ranch and was a much more creative person than I was at the time.

Not to be all stereotypical, but those ranch woman can out cook, out craft and out wrassle any of their town raised counterparts.

Anyhoo, I don’t really remember the events that lead up to it, but this friend of mine, at my request, taught me how to do a counted cross-stitch kit. It was a simple pattern, but when I was done, I was so pleased. It was a nice distraction during those long days of studying.

Doing cross-stitch is not especially hard, but can be time consuming, and there are certain stitches for certain patterns.

My friend very patiently showed me how to sort the threads, how to tape the sides of the aida cloth to keep them from unraveling, how not to pull the stitches too tight, how to fix mistakes, how the back of the cloth should look as clean as the front. All of that.

And so, over the weekend, I had a coupon for Michaels, and yearning to create, I picked out a very simple kit. A "learn a craft" kit that I think is made for kids.

But that doesn't matter.

Today, I very carefully applied tape to the aida cloth. I sorted the threads and counted to be sure they were there. I folded the cloth and marked the center lightly with a pencil, and I got out my highlighter to mark off my progress, all the way my friend taught me lo' these almost twenty years ago.

Whenever I start a new cross-stitch, I always think of my friend. She is with me, guiding my progress the whole way. She is forever a part of me. That's a happy feeling. That's the family you make over the course of your life.

So here we go! Let the creation begin!

Oh, wait. Well. There is one change. One update that will take place this go 'round. A necessary adjustment, if you will.

Yeah. My lighted magnifying class. Sadly, I don't have twenty-year-old eyes anymore. *cranky*

Oh. And getting to work on my cute frog cross-stitch isn't the only bit of using my hands that I got up to today.

I also got busy on these:

Ooh, I feel The Muse on her way back already! Here Musey, Musey, Musey!! Want a cookie?

Winner, winner chicken turkey dinner

I did it! I did it! I did it!

This is my fourth NaNoWriMo attempt and by far my hardest journey.

I am braindead but happy. Celebration begins tomorrow...!

I'm doin' it!

Clearly I've lost my mind. But that's ok, I never really had it gripped all that tight to begin with.

And that's oooookay.

In the midst of traveling and changing jobs and the upcoming holiday season, I have decided, once more this year, to participate in National Novel Writing Month, or as we in the know call it, NaNoWriMo or just NaNo.

This will be my fourth year to attempt the death defying feat of writing 50,000 words in thirty calendar days.

I have tried and succeeded each time. Each year has been its own odyssey into learning about myself, about how I write and about scooting that internal editor over to the side and just putting down the words.

This year is looking a little...shaky.

I wasn't as fired up about my story idea as I've been in past years. And I've learned when you are lost in the abyss at about 25,000 words, a really good, fun, story idea helps you climb through.

So that's worrisome.

Last year I got a late start but ended up finishing in fifteen stupid whirlwind days. Who does that? 50,000 words in fifteen days?

Ah, the occasional benefits of being rampantly OCD!

This year, I got a late start, and despite having a killer six thousand word day yesterday, the fire just isn't in my belly.

And that worries me.

Ah well, too soon to get really concerned. There are still 19ish days left in this race. A marathon, not a sprint.

If you want to follow my progress, I've put a handy dandy little widget over on the left sidebar so you can follow me along. Today I'm at about 12k words. Still many, many left to go.

All good thoughts and voices of support are welcome!

This is the end, my friend.

S'long 2007, you've been a rollicking year. Here on the last day of you, I've taken moments, given pause, really, to think back on all the other 364 days of you and assess how it went.

You started off swell. The Cute Boy™ and I moved into the same address back in January. Shackin' up was a rip snortin' way to start the year, if I do say so myself. It was a weird, and for me, troubled adjustment period, but adjust we did and soon it was like The Cute Boy™ had always been here. Oh, and the feline too. She's made my one person lonely home a warm happy place full of life. I got both a partner and a pet in one fell swoop. That alone makes 2007 a year to remember.

Middle of the year was ok too. The weather was nice, road trips were had. Work began troubling me in earnest, but I kept going.

In June, my self-published book was FINALLY properly published (after many fits and starts and errors on the publisher's side) and listed on Amazon. It was the accomplishment of a dream. More of the beginning rather than a destination, but a huge step on my path and I remain proud of it. A few people have actually even read it!

August/September was a little tough. Both the girl and The Cute Boy™ were miserable at work and sometimes brought that home, making home not always the happiest place. But we talked, a lot. And talked and I cried sometimes and we talked more and then...

September ended, things changed, as they always will, and improvement was soon to follow. And now there is a lot less sad and a lot more joy in our Casita Bonita. Change, while hard, is often a good and necessary thing.

November brought the annual National Novel Writing Month and despite being *sure* I couldn't do it again this year, that I had nothing left in the well having given it all to my employer, I pulled off a feat even I can't believe. I wrote over 50,000 in just 15 days. My best record thus far (my third go-round). I learned a lot about myself during this NaNo, not the least of which is that I'm a freak who works extraordinarily well under a tight deadline. Now to figure out how to use that to my advantage.

December brought the Crafty Chica, more (enduring) love, and a shared home in which to celebrate the holidays. Friends and family and The Cute Boy™ and the feline and me. And despite my *freaking out*, as I'm wont to do when I'm insecure about my homemaking abilities, the celebrations came off without a hitch. Good eats were had. Good eats, the normalizing factor in all celebrations.

And I end this year as I ended the last, madly in love and optimistic about the year ahead. Maybe even more optimistic about this year than last. There are a couple happy things up ahead, possibly. And having something to look forward to is always a good thing.

Here, officially, my New Year's Resolutions:

1) To finish my NaNo book from 2007. (about 10,000-15,000 words to go)

2) To finish my NaNo book from 2008. (about 20,000-30,000 words to go). And once finished, edit, edit, edit....and consider self-publishing this one. It may be the best thing I've written so far.

3) Work with my in-home PR and marketing expert on doing something with my self-published books.

4) Take better care of myself physically. Eat a little less, a few more greens and lift a heart rate every once in a while. Doesn't have to be overly taxing, just have to remember that taking care of me is a priority.

5) Take it a little more easy on myself. I've been listening to the song "In the End" from the soundtrack to Shortbus over and over. I find something so heart-tuggingly true in the words.

"...as your last breath begins, you find your demon's your best friend."

So here at the end of 2007, on the verge of beginning a new year, may I find a way to become friends with my demons now, long before I take my last breath. That, I believe, is the key to my peace.

And so it is.

Joyous New Year to all!





Image via.

Little Green Apples

A friend and fellow blogger declared it "irrelevant blog title day", so who am I to argue?

I have a lot I could complain about but have been listening to myself lately as I talk and I realize…I complain A LOT. About a lot. I was able to eek out a "I'm thankful" post for thanksgiving, but really, I gotta stop whinging about everything. Cuz that's annoying. And when you annoy yourself, that's bad.

I certainly *could*. I have a raging headache. Had to deliver a presentation to my management team that I was unprepared for and went up there and made it up as I went. Hell, my Director asked me a really good question and I made up the answer. Ssh, don’t tell her. But honestly, it went ok. The headache will subside. The busy week will end. My cat will still love me (in her not very loving way that cats have…see the "I'm mad at you" photo at the end) and I get to go home at the end of the day and hug The Cute Boy™ (who inspired my blog title. It's from a Roger Miller song. Cuz he's made that way).

Mainly, despite all the little kerfuffles life brings, things are good. I think I may have outgrown my job. Having a week away from it really brought that into focus. Despite fighting the good fight for my team in management meetings, I find I don't really care that much, and it's not a good sign.

I wanna be a full time writer when I grow up. I want to get paid for my words. And this job isn't it. But so far my writing doesn't pay and this corporate blah does. So I get up every morning and keep making it work. Because I'm made that way.

And despite finishing my 50,000 word writing project, it's not done. And I find my "incentive" to write is dropping. Bah! Time to find a new way to inspire myself.

Basically, I’m just checking in to say I'm still here. It's back to work and crazy days. And I'll just continue to "make it work".

I also realize I've wandered away from the original intent of this blog, to be about New Mexico. So it's time to wander back. I've been reading the ABQjournal with amusement regarding the uproar over the alien ads, got a good giggle over the misspellings on the historic marker in Santa Fe and was skeeved out to read about the third confirmed hantavirus case this year (I'm telling you, people, don't touch the fuzzy wild things. Just don't).

Oh Fair New Mexico, good to know some things never change. God I love where I come from.





Photo by Karen Fayeth

Woo hoo! I did it!

Ok, yes, I'm here to brag. I completed my 50,000 words (NaNoWriMo doncha know). Did it yesterday evening and have been riding on a high ever since. (you can see the word counter over there to the left).

I'll admit it, I'm a freak. I big fat word generating freak. I don't know what got into me but I've been on a word frenzy. Sunday I just couldn't write enough. I had an over six thousand word day. That's weird. I own it. I'm a weirdo.

But this year I beat my best record which was completion on day 21. Hit 'er on day 19 this year.

Freak!

But wow am I a happy freak. Going to use the rest of this month and the momentum to actually finish this bad boy. I'm not terribly far off the mark, so yay!

Join me in celebration! There will be extra thanks around my Thanksgiving table this year!!

Woot!

I can has cheezburger?

I warned in these pages a few weeks back that I'd find a way to lol cat my own personal feline.

The I can has cheezburger site now has an lol cat builder! It's all super easy. < insert evil laugh here >

Herewith:



That damn cat loves the laundry basket…dork.

Anyhoo, been running around like the proverbial headless chicken trying to wrap up work so we can all be outta da office next week (yay!). Also, hit a writing frenzy on my NaNo and am up over 30k words as of last night. It's quite a turnaround for the girl who wasn't even sure she was going to participate this year!

Note to The Cute Boy™: If I actually make it to 50k we is SO gonna celebrate!

Meanwhile, I have made two promises on posts that I've yet to deliver on. One, my thoughts and upset about the ecological disaster of a fuel oil spill that is really mucking up the Bay Area (and beyond) and completely blowing up the crabbing season. I'm so angry, sad, and a lot of other emotions that I'm not sure where to begin. I don't think this story has gotten huge national coverage, but it's a big deal. I have some things to say…soon.

And I promised photos from this past weekend in beautiful Bodega Bay. Hadn't taken my camera out in a while, so I'm less than pleased with my results, but there are a few I'm willing to show amongst friends and all that.

My trip to Bodega Bay fuels some of my emotions about the oil spill.

More, I promise. Right now, I'm at the beck and call of a Senior Director and his current bad mood.

Happy Friday all!

I'm doin' it!

After a restorative weekend in Bodega Bay with The Cute Boy™ (celebrating our two year anniversary!), I'm caught up again and feeling that feelin'! Looking forward to getting through this week and onto my week of Thanksgivingy goodness. My benevolent CEO (snarf!) is giving us the week. Much needed. Work is getting in the way of my writing!

My novel is so far approximately nineteen thousand words of utter dreck. But that's part of the joy of NaNo. Or so they say.

It's not the Great American Novel, but it's mine.

Photos from the weekend coming soon!

Longer, better written posts too!

And soon I must begin planning the menu for the Turkey Day treats. I want to go *simple* this year but my *simple* is always made too complex by my own OCDness. Turkey. Stuffing. Taters. Vegetable. Pie. There you go, the stuff of full bellies and happy family.

This year will be the first year The Cute Boy™ and I are together for the holiday. Years past we've gone separate directions, me tending to my family and he to his. The cooking this year will include Mother of The Cute Boy™ which means my nervousness is already starting. Thankfully I've cooked me a turkey before and have no qualms about it. I make excellent turkey, killer smash potatoes, delish stuffing and pies that make you say "yes please!". So why am I so nervous?

Oh I don't know, probably like the tides and the rising and setting sun, it's just how things are.

Onward, I've many miles to go and at least a thousand words before I rest tonight!

What a difference a day makes

I guess I'm going to have to give credit to Sister Mary Ignatius of the Wooden Ruler who tried to impress upon me that confession is good for the soul. I do hate letting that woman be right. It makes her SO superior.

Anyhoo, after confessing here that I was struggling with the progress of my NaNo novel, something snapped into gear inside of me. I had an almost 7,000 word day yesterday. Yep. I found a couple quiet hours at work (personal project, the best and highest use of my work time - heh) and then went to a local "write in". The fire was there. Unsure if I can sustain it to the finish line, but mine is not to question. Mine is to keep my head up and not look down as I totter on the precipice.

I LOVE it when I have the fire to write. It is such a great feeling. I *crave* it and sadly find it too infrequently. But that moment, like I felt last night, when the words just fly out of my fingers, when I'm not thinking, just typing, when I'm smiling as my inner reader listens to the story. Yeah. That is the greatest feeling. That's the Muse baybee.

Ok, today's a new day and there's a new 2,000 words that need to be produced.

Giddyap!

update: It's just 2:15 and I did it. Once again using work time for my own, I've gotten my 2,000 words for today. En fuego!

It's not going well

NaNoWriMo. Oy. I'm off the pace. I don't know what's got into me this year! Or not into me I guess. The fire isn't there. Why? I can't understand, actually.

Progress continues, slowly.

My benevolent CEO has given us the week of Thanksgiving off. I hope to use some of that time to "make it work". "Make it work" being the new slogan of my work team (shamelessly stolen from Tim Gunn of Project Runway). When everything is messy and nothing makes sense? Make it work.

When you've got 2000 words written and you are eight days in? Make it work.

Back to it.

Belated Dia de los Muertos

Yes, I know it passed me by last week. I usually at least TRY to think of those who have passed on, but didn't. See, November 2 marks the anniversary of the day The Cute Boy™ and I met. And it's a day so filled with joy and happiness that it's hard to be sorrowful.

Yet, feeling that sorrow every year is important. Circle of life, no joy without pain and all that.

I was too caught up in NaNoWriMo and celebrating love that I forgot to think about death. Not so bad a trade off, I suppose, in the long run.

My NaNoWriMo progress limps along. I wrote nary a word for the first four days (yikes) and am now some 8,000 words off the pace. But I calculated 50,000 words over 25 days and that's 2,000 words a day. Still do-able. I've got 1500 so far today, so progress has (finally!) begun.

But back to those muertos.

Today I remember the lives of those I've lost. All four of my grandparents, my father, and my best friend from high school. Of them, my high school friend is the one I can say truly didn't get a chance to live her life. My grandparents and my father lived good long lives, saw their children into adulthood and were ok when the time came to pass. The loss of my friend still gives me pain. She was too young. Such is the nature of life.

But here, when the veil between our world and theirs is thinner, easier to access, I think of those I've lost with a heart full of love.

I remember.

*cramp* Oh the pain!

So. Today is November 1. Yep. First of November.

What does that mean?

The start of National Novel Writing Month.

Yeppers. Fifty THOUSAND words. Thirty days.

I've done it twice now, in 2004 and in 2006. Made it across the finish line both times.

So. I'm trying it again this year.

Worried.

Don't have the focus. Don't have that pinpoint freak out, holy-crap-nothing-will-stand-in-my-way-to-get-this-done kind of laser beam lock on. The two years I succeeded, I was sharp, on top of it, wrote plenty of words on day one to launch me into it.

It's almost noon. Nary a word. Hoo boy. This might be a tough year.

No shame in not making it, really. But my Type A overachiever is YELLING at me inside my brain.

Oy.

Like I needed to add stress to this wacked out life!

So, pull for me. Send me the gods of the written word. Despite the crampy writer's block I'm suffering, I'm jumping in!

It's going away, isn't it?

My friend. My companion. That comfort at the end of a long day's work, driving home, watching the sun go down, laughing, cheering, listening. It's leaving me again, just as the world turns cold. It always leaves me just when the sun starts setting sooner, when the chill rolls in, when the leaves turn. Just when I need it the most, it's gone.

My old friend and joy, baseball, is leaving me again this weekend.

The San Francisco Giants played their last home game of 2007 last night, made all the more bittersweet as, after fifteen crazy years, it was the last game Barry Bonds will play in a Giants uniform.

It was year of agony and ecstasy.

Ecstasy: The San Jose Giants, the Minor League Single A affiliate, and a group of young 'uns near and dear to my heart performed a miracle. Coming on strong in the first half and falling off hard in the second half, they still earned their way into the playoffs and prevailed. They are the 2007 California League Champions. They played an amazing post season and just brutalized Lake Elsinore in game 5, the deciding game. I get goose bumps just thinking about it. This was a hard working team of guys who learned how to win, and a tip of the cap to manager Lenn Sakata for taking yet another team to the post season.

Agony: Their big brothers to the North, however, didn't fare so well. With three games left, they've lost 89 games and are a gut-turning 18.5 games out of first place.

This was the season that Bonds broke the all-time homerun record, walloping 756 over the walls and into the history books. But all the media glare, both positive and negative, had an impact on the other 24 guys on the roster. Starting pitching was ok (I won't "go there" about the pitiful year Barry Zito had…I just…can't…), the bullpen was ridiculous and hitting was lame. They went up there with sad and tired bats. And our star catcher bitched about it to the press.

It was not a glorious year. It's the latest in all the depressing seasons we've endured after the joys (and pain) of the 2002 World Series.

Ownership says 2008 is a "rebuilding" year. That means some young kids, some no names, and no hope of a post season for at least a couple more years.

But even in the agony of this terrible season, it was there. Baseball was on the radio every night, 162 games a year. The bases were still 90 feet apart and it was still 60 feet, six inches from mound to plate. The Umps still missed calls, players were plunked, miracles were performed and for me, all was all right with the world.

I had a day yesterday for the record books, and as I drove home, looking into the setting sun, sad, mad, exhausted, apathetic, beat down, and depressed as hell, I reached out and touched the "power" button on my radio, and suddenly Jon Miller's voice boomed out from my radio speakers, "a called strike one!" and I left behind my troubles. My sorrow. My bone wearying exhaustion and I listened to the game. Smiling at strikes, frowning at balls and batting my hand on the steering wheel when the boys in orange and black got a hit and cheering loudly in my car.

I don't give a rip about any of the teams in the post-season, although I may watch a few games. It's not the same when it isn't your team fighting it out.

*sigh* Now what? My baseball friend becomes a hockey fan in the off-season. I like hockey, but not with that fever reserved for baseball.

Guess instead, it's time to start thinking about what in the hell I'm going to write 50,000 words about for the annual NaNoWriMo.

Heh…three years ago I wrote a baseball book……

Happy Anniversary!

It was one short month ago today that I began this blogtastic journey.

I can't believe it's *just* a month because it seems like much, much longer.

It all began on St. Paddy's Day, March 17th with this post.

What have I learned in my 30 days as a blogger?

1) Blogging every single dingle day is a LOT harder than it looks

2) There is a great community out there of bloggers and some wildly smart people blogging some fantastically smart, wry, witty stuff. I am humbled by what's out there.

3) I have a LOT to learn about the blogosphere, blogging and all the associated technologies. RSS feeds, vlogs and Flicker, OH MY!

4) There is such a thing as the blogger state of mind. Natalie on her kick ass blog Petroglyph Paradox nailed in perfectly in her April 14 post "Perceptions":

"Sometimes, I wonder about the lives of my blogger buddies. I wonder how someone actually lives beyond the anecdotal words of their blog. I wonder if they experience the same smelly, downtime or wake up with a story in their head or if they too, drive down the road, see something, and then say to themselves, 'I’m gonna blog about that.' "

I do this all the time. See something and then think what angle I can take to blog about it. I have a tiny notebook in my purse crammed with snippets of thoughts. Many of which have made their way to these pages.

5) I have learned that I am a chicken. Only a few folks in my life know about this blog. I know soon I need to come out of the closet, so to speak, and tell my unsupportive family that despite my Clark Kent-ish day job...in reality, I'm a writer, I have a book on Amazon and I'm a blogger....and then deal with the consequences.

Baby steps.

6) My blog is just as valuable as anyone else's blog. What I have to say matters. Even if only to me. And having the courage to put it out there actually does take courage.

7) Blogging is good therapy. Boy can I get some stuff off my chest!

8) The feeling of elation I get after completing the post for the day is as addictive (more so, actually) as any drug or drink I've ever known. That satisfied feeling is something I crave. (addiction number 2 is looking at the webtraffic statistics)

9) I've always said I work best under deadlines. Doing this every day and only missing one day which was then properly made up for and backdated has proven this to me. I thrive when I have a deadline. I do some amazing work. It's why I kick butt at National Novel Writing Month.

10) When I set my mind to something...look out. It took mere days from deciding I wanted to do this to execution. It's a fact of my personality I actually admire. Should serve me well in my continuing quest to be a writer that people actually pay to write.

So today is a day of celebration for me. I'll blow out the candle on a celebratory cupcake and go nuts.

Thanks to all readers, your webtraffic brings me joy.

The sound of crickets chirping...

In my head. Oh god, all day long when I ponder what will be my blog entry for today, all I hear are crickets. (Go here if you are aurally challenged and need help imagining the sound. I did.)

It is day nine of blogdom for me and I'm more than embarrassed to admit I don't have any good ideas for a post today. So I'll post about my lack of post, how's that?

When I set out (just over a week ago) the ideas flowed easily. I'm not ashamed to admit I'm pretty proud about how things are going so far. As I mentioned in the beginning, this blog starts out as a source of good discipline for me as a writer. And today I'm up against one of my demons as a writer. "Eh, I don't have a good idea, so I'll not bother to even write."

This is bad. It victimizes great writers every day.

For the past few years I've participated in National Novel Writing Month, an exercise in which you force yourself to write 50,000 words in thirty days for the sheer challenge of doing so. I've done it twice and won both times. Mainly because I learned this about myself: I work great under a tight deadline. When the race is on and there's "something in it", I'm all over it.

But my momentum tends to lag when there isn't a carrot out there that I'm running toward.

That's the discipline I'm working on. I'm an amateur writer working on growing my chops. I see how far I've come in the almost ten years since I set out to honestly focus on writing, and I can sure see how far I've yet to grow.

They say, "write what you know" and writing about New Mexico fits that bill. So far I'm having a good time with this. I hope over time I can get some eyes here that aren't just family and friends (though I'm incredibly grateful to any family member or friend who is giving me a glance).

I love writing, I really do, and this blog, I've discovered, is actually harder to do than it seems. Not complaining. It was just surprising to me. I have some favorite bloggers that I've read over the years who complain about how much time a blog takes. I always thought, "pish posh, get with the posting!" Now I know better.

I'm having a fun time...despite the ever increasing volume of crickets in the noggin today.

I suppose I could blame the ABQjournal for having a slow Sunday, or New Mexico Magazine for having a slow month (the "home edition" always leaves me cold, I flipped through it in record time today). But that's just all excuses. And the time has come to stop making excuses.

Today, I write. Look at that....you can squeeze a whole post outta nothing to write about!