Today is sort of a strange day. I’m feeling weird this morning, probably because I stayed shut up in the apartment all weekend and did little more than sleep and write. There is a good side to that last, and it’s that I wrote well over five thousand words during this stint, and that means I’ll hit one hundred and fifty thousand tonight or tomorrow, because I’m only one thousand, one hundred and five words from that mark.
It all really depends on how I feel after I do my recap tonight.
Yesterday, however, I found something, though “found” is a relative term because it’s not like it ever went away. What I found was my one hundredth post titled Centennial, and I’m actually pretty amazed by it, because, well, I was keeping track of posts then? That sounds a little retentive, yeah?
I’ve been spending a little time at night going over some of the stuff I wrote way back in the days when I first started blogging, and believe me when I say it wasn’t pretty. Mostly because I was kinda lost in my own life, and I had little idea about what I wanted to do, both with my writing and my life. If you can believe it, I was a mess, and I’d just gone through one of the worst summers of my life, in terms of what it did to me emotionally and mentally. I had very little to look forward to at that point, save for one thing:
And for some strange, nefarious reason, I decided to begin blogging–
“No, this will be easy, I’ll just write about whatever come to mind. That should cover the first week–“
And it just went from there. Mostly I wrote about writing–big surprise! Actually I started writing about writing because, truly, I felt it would keep me writing. In a way it did: at the end of August I started in on a story that would eventually becoming Kuntilanak, and I began blogging about the experience of writing the story, getting it edited, and eventually publishing the damn thing.
Also, all this blogging led me to decide to continue writing, and from there I spent the month of October getting ready for my first NaNoWriMo, the one that produced the only novel I’ve published–so far. And because I had the blog, I used that as an outlet to show people what I was doing, how I was doing it, and when I reached November, I wrote about how much I was writing. Sort of like Inception without the BLLLUUURRRRRRR every few minutes.
Today is post one thousand, six hundred and sixty, hence the post title, and a little calculating shows that Friday, 2 September, 2016, will be post two thousand–assuming I don’t miss a day somewhere in that mix. It’s almost a year off in the future so I can’t really think much about the date, because no one know what and where we’ll be at that point.
I do know this much: if I’ve blogging, I’m still writing. And probably blogging about writing. Probably writing about my kids. Let’s hope the first novel is published by then, the second is done, and thinking about the third–
Because there are still a lot of stories to tell.