I have anxiety in the pit of my gut. And my heart is fluttering a bit...but I think that's more my afternoon coffee. I'm considering taking part in National Novel Writing Month (http://www.nanowrimo.org/), which happens throughout November, and would have me committed to writing a novel in a month. A novel. In a month. This is no small feat. And I'm pretty nervous to commit to something like this. (Ha.) Because I feel like there is a high risk of failure involved. Well, maybe not failure...but high risk of writing something really terrible! Maybe this is why writers have pseudonyms...so they can cover their butts if their book sucks. I don't know how to write a story! I just write about myself. (That sounds awful...but let's be real.) I guess I could do an autobiographical tale.
When I was little I loved to write stories...I should scan one and post it up here. My favourite follows the close, but unlikely, friendship of a rabbit and a fox. They are great friends. Until the end, when my last line states, "And then the fox ate the rabbit." Perhaps even better is reading the 'comments' section where my teacher and parents all express their shock at my choice of ending. There's a story-teller in me somewhere. With an ending like that, how can there not be?!
I'm reading this book by Stephen King, "On Writing", and he says as a writer you need to have writing goals for how much you want to write each day...and you need a room with a door, to lock yourself in until you've reached your daily goal. I share a room. So I'm not sure how this is going to work. Maybe I can make a writing studio out of a giant cardboard box and go sit in there for my writing time. Maybe I can write a novel about a girl who lives in a cardboard box. Meh, I'll figure it out. Hey, I'll let you know.