On Writing

Oh, no.  Don’t get me mixed up with Stephen King‘s On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. I’m nowhere near King’s caliber to bring horror (or suspense) to the page.  No matter how hard I tried recently to do so.  My given genre was suspense with a nanny as a character and a condemned apartment building as the setting.  I may have accidentally given the nanny my niece’s name.

I haven’t told her.

I also may have accidentally written it in second-person, present tense.

I don’t know.  It just happened.

I won’t know the results of the first round until March.  So, I won’t worry about it.  I’ve sent it out into the universe and once it has left my hands, well, there’s nothing I can do about it.

It’s really my philosophy on life.  I’m not biologically geared towards worrying about everything.

I am geared, however, to rambling on the page.

I’m (not) sorry about it, by the way.

So, writing.  I’ve been pretty scarce here on the blog, and I can offer no real excuses, except for the lame ones.  I’ve been busy.  I haven’t been inspired.  I’ve been tired.  I was abducted by aliens.  You know the usual excuses.

But I’m trying.  I suppose that matters, right?

While I’m typing this, I’m listening to a webinar about online copywriting.  After, I finish writing this I’ll be researching places to submit pieces.  I’ve pinned those places, by the way.  If you’re interested, you can follow the board here.  There’s a lot really.

Outside there’s a parade going on to celebrate the Chinese New Year.  I think it’s the Year of the Monkey and I honestly thought the parade was going on tomorrow.  I’m probably wrong.  I would’ve liked to see the parade – however short it may be.  Oh, well.  Next year, perhaps.  Here’s a picture of the lanterns I took this morning.  (You can find it on my Instagram feed.)Lanterns_on_Murray_Avenue.__chinesenewyear__pittsburgh__squirrelhill

My husband is napping beside me.  He has two shows this evening.  He needs all the sleep he can get.

So, onwards and back to writing!


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