Screw

All right, screw this. I like writing here. I just have to train myself so it doesn’t matter so much. The man takes things too seriously again. You have to take writing seriously in order to write an entire novel, but I shouldn’t have to give up something I’m enjoying. Not justification--I’m hoping. I’ve made some good progress on the book. I’ve made a point of working on the book at night, after my daughter goes to bed. If I get at least a page done a day, I’ll be satisfied by the end of the year. If I duck out again, you’ll know why.

I think I just needed a vacation from blogging, or at least the knowledge that I could take one if I wanted to. I was feeling tethered/shackled to the thing. I can put up one post a week if I feel like it--without making a big show about it, there’s no obligation. A blinding glimpse of the obvious. I’ve never been very good about keeping a journal and I’ve always regretted it. Just the thought of having an audience gets me writing here.

Maybe this blog will become something else. The journal of a novel, rather than the journal of a writer. Whatever it is, I don’t want to end it.