Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash
I finally posted to Facebook yesterday.
It is one thing to fling words into the vast windy emptiness of Medium.
It is another thing entirely to post in front of people who know me.
The tech part made it worse.
Something with a banner image and sharing links and Medium being Medium.
Not dramatic, just enough friction to make me say: Nah. Later
Me: 🐔
Also Me: We can do this! 📣
Then I did it.
Also Me: 🎊
I realized in the last month
I have been writing about writing for 29 days.
Daily reflections on Medium.
Character sketches.
Plot grids.
Character arcs.
Zero words of actual fiction.
No scenes.
No magic.
No mythical healing forest.
Just… circling it.
And now my son has built the website I only uh—
mentioned in passing.
It is live.
Purple kittens purring and hummingbirds flying.
Blinking, winking at me for content
Me: I don’t want to write anything. I need a nap.
Also Me: We can’t just keep write about writing.
A month or so ago I signed up for a marathon writing session.
It’s here, this weekend, with Alexandra Writers Centre Society.
I have pledged to write 20000 words.
In two days
Me: 🤦♀️ Oh.My.God.
Also Me: 😀📣 We can do this! It might even be fun!
Me: 🙄 Like Root Canal fun?
Many people will be there in person.
I bit the tech bullet and installed Zoom.
No driving.
Stay in pyjamas
Sip wine spritzers.
I suddenly realized —literally as I was typing this
The month of writing-about-writing was not avoidance.
It was preparation.
Building confidence.
Finding the story voice.
Warming up my fingers…
I’m ready!
I might pop on here to wave during the marathon.
Otherwise, I’ll post on Monday.
Me: We will be waiting with bated breath 🙄
Also Me…………….🦗🦗🦗