On Writing

I've had a writing itch this week. I've been making more and more use out of Google Docs, which is basically a stripped down version of Word. The really cool thing is that my stories are then saved online, so wherever I have internet, I have time to write. Instead of surfing the net during my downtime at work, I can write. This is good. My goal this year is to write more. Especially since nanowrimo is coming up and I promised myself I would try it this year. (Hyperventilates).

Where I am in my writing? I am writing about people, places, and things. I'm rewriting Sleeping Beauty's story to see what would happen if she had been cursed with eternal wakefulness first before the lengthy nap. I'm imagining "what if I was a ten-year-old girl who could be invisible?" I'm taking the opening line that popped into my head one day: "It was exactly 12 'o clock noon when I almost committed suicide" and seeing what story pops out of it.

I'm trying to take the most important rule of being a writer to heart, which is "WRITE!!" It is scary to write. It is scary to write about my writing. I flounder a lot. I scribble out what I think must have been the dumbest thing ever more times than I want to say. But sometimes I reread what I've written and I'm happy with it. And that, I suppose is what keeps me at it.