I had many motivations for starting a blog, just one of which was to build writing discipline so that I'll be able to sit down and write that novel/screenplay/comic book/play/book of gutwrenching poetry when I retire.
I've learned over the past year that, when motivated, I can sit down and pound out a few paragraphs. They will be somewhat coherent. From the response, it also seems that they can be entertaining.
I've also learned, without benefit of college classes, that I can construct an essay and get my point across to a reasonable number of the people reading it. Go me.
I haven't written much in the way of fiction, however.
And when I pictured myself retiring and settling down to a project, I came up with a few different kinds of project. Unsurprisingly, none of them were nonfiction.
This is the point in my life where I start to panic about that. In addition to my work duties (a few too many performance reviews are due very close to Thanksgiving where I work), and my online blogging addiction (I'm steady at two solo blogs, two group blogs, a linkblog, and a full themed BlogCarnival right now!), I convinced myself to pound out a comic book script. Because that is what all comic book fans who can't draw eventually do.
You can't see it.
I was five pages in when I decided to figuratively toss myself off the cliff.
I don't mean in-story, either.
I signed up for National Novel Writing Month.
If posting declines during November, you now know why.
(It's Karen's fault, she talked me into it!)