Monday, October 26, 2009


November is NaNo (National Novel Writing Month). I've a friend that's done it for a few years now. She actually gets to 50,000 words! 50 thousand words!!!! My mind boggles.

I don't think I've written 50 thousand words in all my (very limited) accumulated works. I'm really not sure I could. I kinda want to try, but honestly, I just don't know if I could. I don't feel like I have any stories to tell. I've not come up with a new story idea in years. What does that say about me? What if that part of me is dead??

I'm a corward, I realise this, but I just...I don't know if I want to know. I think it might break something inside of me to learn that I really can't do it. I don't even understand why I care, but I do. What if that part of me is broken? What if I killed the part of me that was once creative?

I think it must be dead. Like I said, I've not thought of a new idea in years. Years.

I'd like to think that perhaps the story that has been at the forefront is just too.. strong to let anything else push through, but that sounds too much like bull shit, even to me.

"They", you know, the mysterious 'they', say you should write what you know. I don't like that. What do I know? I know pain and fear, with a sprinkling of love. My world is enveloped by pain, ruled by fear, and made tolerable by love. This is not the kind of world anyone would ever want to read about! This is not a pleasant world. It's painful and full of cowardice. It's ugly and shameful, and for many years I did my best to escape through books and my own fantasies. In recent years, I've learned to be mostly happy in my little hole, knitting and baking, and waiting...waiting for loved ones to have time for me, waiting for people to come home (some, okay, one of whom I've only just realised, never will), waiting for the pain to pass, waiting for things to get better.... The things I know, the world I understand... It's not the type you write about. It's not pretty or noble or anything worthy of reading about.

Bah. I really do wish I had a story. Something fun. My life is lacking that right now. The whole chronic pain thing puts a damper on...well, everything actually. Fun would be good. Something light-hearted. I can't be the only one that enjoys a light-hearted romp through fantasy land, can I?? If only I has a story *sigh*

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