I just realized that I don’t have to have a reason to write. I can just sit down and do it, not because I have just been inspired by something or because I have a brand new idea that I don’t want to forget. I should just write, because right now I have the time and I have lingering ideas that I need to get started already, and I have stepped away from the stuff I workshopped last month for enough time that things won’t feel too hurtful (not that they ever really did; I got great comments and I was proud to find out that I have officially become thick-skinned–in fact, often during my workshops I found that I wanted to participate because I had forgotten it was my writing being critiqued), so I should just write. School starts a week from Monday, and then I’ll be doing so much schoolwork and GRE studying and grad school applications that now is the time.
I’ve been reading a lot, which is wonderful. Thursday I read an entire book, Friday I read an entire other book and started a book of poetry, and today I read an entire children’s book and started a new book of prose that I’m halfway through. So I’m getting shit done, and it’s wonderful to be reading so much. I have no qualms about not hanging out with many other humans before school starts. It feels great to be a literary hermit. But I should write, too. I need to get back into the habit. So what I’m doing right now is sitting at a desk, which is something I have not done, aside from in a classroom, for years. Except I actually started doing it in Prague. But that was only last month, so essentially this is still the first time. I think people are supposed to use desks to write, so I’m going to try that, because generally my desk is just a storage facility. This will be good for my back and also good for my writing. I hope. And next week I will be here, rounding up everything I read over the summer and counting it all. I have a feeling it’s a pretty kickass number of books.
Writing, writing, editing, and rewriting! And outlining! Here I go!