The other night (was it last night?) as I laid awake in bed, I thought of something I wanted to write. It would just be a short story, and I have no idea where it would go, but I liked the concept. A character with horribly bad luck, who taints everyone she touches. She stays upbeat for as long as she can, but ultimately the pain of those around her starts to have an effect on her psyche.
Yes, it is inspired by myself! I won’t be so arrogant as to assume I have any special sort of bad luck, but you have to admit that it’s funny: I had cancer, which hurt my family, and then my apartment burned down, which hurt my husband. Taken together, anecdotally, you can kind of pretend there’s a pattern.
Anyway, thinking of that made me wonder if I’m ever actually going to write anything on Plugged In (or whatever I end up calling it). I think that deciding to do NaNoWriMo this year was pretty stupid. I was hoping that having a lot to do would force me to organize my time better, but all it’s really done is cause me to stress out about all my obligations. So, once again, pretty damn early this time, I’m going to throw in the towel.
I’ll leave the book there though, so I can write on it when I feel like it.