It’s my Big Writing Weekend, so I shouldn’t be blogging right now. In fact, I feel like I’m cheating on Hot Mess Hubby by doing this…because the Big Writing Weekend was his idea and my blog wasn’t what he was talking about.
I was born a writer. As early as I can remember, my teachers were calling my Mom to say “This kid’s a writer…please encourage it.” In fact, writing is what I turned to as a young woman when I finally quit dance and left The King.
There were no blogs back then. I wrote fiction. It gave me the freedom to explore what life would be like as someone else. I created characters who were all the wonderful things I thought I was not. Sometimes I created characters who were fictional representations of people I didn’t like…and I brought vengeance upon them. It’s wonderful therapy. And it’s cheap. And I can’t go to jail for throwing someone in front of an imaginary train.
Hot Mess Hubby is my biggest fan. Back before there was a blog, back before we were even dating…back when we were just pals…he would ask to read anything I wrote. He even enjoyed handing me weird writing challenges on the spot. I rose to every challenge, of course – including the time he challenged me to write a poem about his “turd bobb’in dog”. I wish I was making that up, but it’s true.
In fact, I made the mistake of telling Hot Mess Hubby about one particular Thanksgiving weekend when I was on my way home from the store and I was struck with an idea for a story. I went home and started writing…and four days later, I had 55,000 words. He’s never forgotten that story – and that’s lead to this “Big Writing Weekend” of mine.
I took Friday off of work and I’m off Monday for Memorial Day. The goal was to lock myself in our guest room and just start banging on the keys until creativity started to come out. The problem is that it’s been awhile since I’d tapped into my creativity in any meaningful way and I’m sort of…constipated.
Writing my blog is very different from writing fiction. This blog isn’t creative writing. To me, this blog is like we’re all pals in a coffee shop and I’m chatting away. Fiction is much harder – especially after so many years away from it. My gears are rusty. As I write this, I’ve only written 1,000 words since Friday morning. I knew I’d be slow and clunky at first, but that’s just sad!
I’m sure it’ll get better. Eventually.
In other news, my gym experience is going well. I’m going to write a whole post about it, but I’m proud to say that I made the right decision in choosing which gym to join and how to go about it. It probably sounds incredibly wimpy, but I’m up to 10 – 14 minutes on the elliptical trainer right now. My strategy isn’t focused so much on increasing my time as it is going every day. Every single day. I’m building a habit.
Also, I went in for a haircut this week and ended up donating my hair to Locks of Love. It’s much shorter than I planned, but I asked the stylist to show me how much she would have to take…and I decided that it was more important to sacrifice a little vanity and let my hair go to good use. It seemed a bigger crime to let my long hair go in the trash can when it could help make hair pieces for chronically ill children. So I let her hack it all off. I guess that’s one way to lose 10 inches, right?
Finally, I’m being terrorized…by the state bird of Texas. A family of Mockingbirds has nested somewhere in my yard or my neighbor’s yard – and the babies are learning to fly. I love animals and I enjoy watching birds, so this is technically a minor inconvenience – but I’m convinced that all my neighbors think I’m crazy because I’m forced to run from the front door to the car and vice versa.
Mommy and Daddy Mockingbird are quite protective of their babies…one of which waddled across my front lawn yesterday. Adorable…but the parents are dive-bombing me and everyone who walks close to our home or my neighbor’s home. When they’re not trying to kick my ass, I’m quite entertained by the show they put on as I watch safely from the living room windows. Don’t mess with Texas…and that includes our state bird.
I’ll be back soon with a full progress report from the gym. For now, it’s back to whatever this fiction thing is that I’m writing. I don’t know if it’s a short story or a book…right now I just need to unclog the pipes. Wish me luck!