If I don't post very often next month, it's because I signed up for this. It started out with me daring Richard to do it, and then for who knows what reason I suggested we both sign up, rationalizing that this way neither of us would plan anything on the weekends in November, and if the house was a bit messy or we were a bit grouchy from lack of sleep or too wired on caffeine, or hitting severe writer's block, we'd at least both be in the same boat.
Problem is, I'm already doing the 'what on earth are you thinking?' to myself. I know that what is intended to be written in the next month will, for all intents and purposes, be nearly pure crap, but still, this means that for the first time in my life I am actually going to have to force myself to *finish* something I write, and I'm not so sure I'm ready for that. Nice thing about this journal, see, is that it's all little chapters, and I never have to worry about coming up with dialog or of plotting out the end or fleshing out the middle. This is *all* middle, see.
So, you can either take pity on me, laugh hysterically, shake your head and call me crazy (don't worry, I'm doing all three simultaneously. Well, except for the pity part, since after all this was my stupid idea to begin with), or you could even be so gutsy as to join in.
And come to think of it, it's highly likely that my participation in this thing won't keep me from writing here. I have a sneaky feeling that not only will I be posting just as often, but I'll finally get that darn smocking project done, and the house will be sparkly clean by the end of November. I am, if nothing else, the Queen of procrastination. Only problem is, my normal tendency of doing it all at the last minute may not fly here. Not even I can crank out 50,000 words the day before it's due. Heh.