Who do I still think I am??

This one's about NaNoMaNO.

30DBC PROMPT: "Are you competing in NaNoWriMo this month? Have you ever participated in the past? Tell us about your experience. If you have not competed, do you ever want to? How do you combat writer's block?"

Wow. Hello folks. Another weekend in Connecticut, and it's already Monday night? Recovery has its privileges, I suppose. I should turn myself into a corporation. That'd be fun, plus I know I can put in the work...until I get bored by myself. Then what?

So it's another November. That's cool...it only happens once a year. But NaNoWriMo? Let's consider: I believe this stands for National Novel Writing Month. Great idea in theory. But I don't write novels (although I've sent out a pissed off text or 523 in my time that were mocked as being "novelesque"). I don't know if I'll ever be able to sustain the drama that comes with writing fiction over the necessary long haul it requires. I have a hard enough time getting up for writing a damn blog entry now and again, and that requires less thought than a paperback you can buy at a drug store does.

But hey, if you wanna write a novel, knock your socks off. I'm all for it. I applaud you all. I support the notions. I can't wait to see you all on some "best seller" list. I say that with love, and not sarcasm. You can do it.

Me? No. No interest. Tried it. Got bored. Moved on with life. My problem? I could eat a can of alphabet soup and crap out a better novel than most of the trash you'll find in a bookstore's back room, but I don't eat soup. Or drink it. Or do whatever it is you do with soup. Any way you slurp it, it's still not my game.

That's not to say I won't give it another go-'round at some point. My brother DMFM wanted a biography at one time, and if I never signed up to write it, I will eventually. Other than that, you won't catch me trying to write a book. Ever. Condensing my musings on life into an anthology? Maybe. Publishing poetry? Perhaps. But a novel? Not with the added pressure that comes along with November and its "NaNoWhatImmaCallIt" ways. Naw man, I got other stuff to do.

And "writer's block"? Well, you either work through it by writing trash over and over, or you just don't. As in, don't. And you live your life. Eventually, it comes back to you, and you wonder why you haven't written for so long. And sometimes you wonder why you even bothered attempting in the first place.

BCF PROMPT: "Your entire community — however you define that; your hometown, your neighborhood, your family, your colleagues — is guaranteed to read your blog tomorrow. Write the post you’d like them all to see."

I giggled a little seeing this prompt. I also veered back and forth between the 11/4 and 11/5 prompts, wondering which one I should address. I started before midnight (WDC time), and it's after midnight now. How such conundrums used to confuse me. I'm making a decision, and you're gonna live with it. 11/4, take the controls.

It's no secret what I do when I write. It's open for everyone. When I write a blog entry, it goes up on Twitter and Facebook. The moment I'm ashamed of what I post on the internet is the day I no longer care about anyone/anything ever. I don't hide and I've got little to hide. Common knowledge happens when I hit the "Save Entry" button.

Do I have a community? I don't know. Not physically...not where I live. These people here could give fucks about other things, as could I regarding them. In this headspace of internet usage, maybe I do have a cottage on the lake of caring people. I'm not really worried about it though. I'd love to say you'll all be rewarded someday for your patience and forgiveness and loyalty, but we both know we don't have a clue as to how that's gonna happen. Conspiring isn't as strong a suit anymore, and not giving a rat's ass looks a lot better anyway.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Oh, you cheeky bastard you...retiring and then going back on tour.

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

Oh, McDonalds. Oh, Mass Pike. Could nothing be worse than settling for a burger and then realizing understanding that you're not destined for one anyway? We decided to stop for food at a Massachusetts rest stop, but not the same one we'd stopped at before because of service issues and quality concerns. Turns out they were "out of power" and couldn't take orders. Them Massholes must hate me for only liking McDonalds' road food for breakfast.

Oh I wish I had more to add, and I probably do, but I need to do some understanding on this "bedtime" thing you people speak so highly of. I wish you all well, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!