In Which I Write Because I Should

Here we are, at the end of the day, and I have no writing to show for it. This, by the way, is exactly one day after I told my photographer friend that her 365-day project was inspiring me to maybe begin my own 365-day project again. Only I’m talking 365 days of writing because taking photos every day would not only point up my absolutely lack of photography knowledge and talent—but it would also make it quickly apparent that my house is rarely clean.

Supposedly because I’m a writer, and I spend my time writing.

So the point here is that I thought to myself, “I can do 365 days of writing at least a teensy bit every day, right? On Sundays, I’ll just work on my personal blog or write witty, brilliant, and insightful emails to friends and family. On the rest of the days, I’ll work on my books, my blog, my other blog . . . or that other blog.”*

I thought to myself, “If nothing else I can do 200 words per day.” Most days, far more of course** (I insert virtuously), but at least 200.

So here I am, and we’ve hit 268. Win!

Good night.

*It seems I have a lot of blogging to do these days.

**Because at 200 words per day, I would finish a novel once every . . . never.***

***Especially since those 200 would be spread over all sorts of projects and also because they’d all be first draft words (which, as we know, are statistically 95% junk).