january 9.

so, the year is better so far.

it doesn't feel as critical as it did during the end of december, which was only a week or two ago.

there was a tiny bit of time away, and space.

and what i chose to do with it was PERFECT.

i spent an entire day on facebook with nina. just talking, playing scrabble, back and forth. from maybe ten am to ten pm.

between that, i started this short story.

it's really a pretty neat idea. i had it one night, probably laying in bed. i started to write it, just as i always do. start at the beginning.

i intended for it to be a short story, to add to the little mini-pile in the fiction section to the left.

only it took on new life, and is quickly becoming a novella, if i had to guess. one page became five, became ten, became twenty one, now thirty one.

i've never written anything so long in my life.

and it was totally an accident.

i've been telling my friends who know about my writing habits that it feels like i'm a vessel in a way. i just type and the words come and the ideas multiply. there's character development. which was never necessary, as i ever only write about myself, my life, my dreams, my daydreams.

it's very exciting. it makes me wish that i could make money at writing, quit my day job, and just write all day. i'd probably get bored fairly quickly, but it would be nice for a little while!

and now that i'm reading and writing all the time, i don't know how i ever got along without it.

i can't wait to work on my memoir, when this story is done. i always knew i'd put one together. to this point i made a little screened zine of lines from journals that stood out to me at the time (four years ago?). but the stories i wrote out, and the details i chose to capture, and the way i chose to remember something, they seem pretty quality to me, when i read back.

and now the only decision i have to make is whether to use real names or not. because in a way, i don't really give a fuck about what the people think. in the zine, i used real names. i mean, my friends who are still friends won't care if i use their real first names. and the people who aren't, well their opinions don't matter much to me. and i'm a vindictive girl, a little written revenge might serve all those assholes right anyways.

and that is my new year, in writing.

i'm really very excited. the story is coming along nicely. there's enough substance to it now that i have to start taking notes on character and names and dates, to keep the inconsistencies to a minimum. there's a timeline to cover the course of months that pass in the book.

anyways, it's going to be my year. i can feel it. even if it doesn't mean that i break free from the things that sometimes feel like chains that bind me, i'm already happier, and that makes me smile.