I have no idea what kind of post I should publish. I’ve even started to write a ‘how to write a blog post’ post for myself but was unable to finish it. Yes, my brain has reached that level of malfunction. Today, for example, I couldn’t count to eleven. I had to get someone to help me.
it’s a good idea to listen to your car
This week, my poor car suffered the indignity of being placed in a garage and poked around by mechanics. Apparently – and this is from a credible source – if your car squeals when you are pressing the breaks there is something wrong with it. Who knew, right?
If you like a song do not under any circumstance set it as your alarm. Love will turn to loathing quicker than you can awaken, feel enormously resentful, and shut the song up before it gets into full swing.
writing is good, and yet, so is sleep
I’m in a quandary at the moment. By the time I have emptied my brain and am ready to write, it’s late and I could easily sleep. So. Do I a) write into the wee hours and end up sleep deprived at work or b) sleep and feel great wrath towards myself in the morning?
it’s okay to write bizarre things
I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo. I tried last year and managed to give myself good old writer’s block for most of this year. To stop starting and halting in an eternal cycle, I’m giving myself leave to just write. It doesn’t have to be brilliant. It doesn’t have to be the best thing since sliced bread. As a result, I’m finding myself writing a rather odd book.
Sometimes I forget to be evil. Sometimes I forget to give a hearty, maniacal laugh. Sometimes I even say ‘thank you’ to my henchmen. I like to live dangerously.
– from the Rather Odd Book
So far, I have some unicorn cats and a crime lord dragon. Occasionally I wish that I could write volumes of terribly beautiful, incredibly deep and definitely prize-winning fiction. Other times, I shrug my shoulders and write about things which amuse me.
have a lovely weekend!