There is a moment. Emotions and thoughts try to push their way simultaneously through subway doors of conscious. They push and jostle and cram. There is a slow-motion pause when nothing can get past the too-small opening. This dooming pressure builds and steals the breath from already panting lungs. The vessels scream and greedily reach for the non-existent oxygen. There is no coping mechanism. No fail-safe for this scheduled event. The passengers on this ghost train have no protest but presence. They'll ride patiently until you address them. But the slamming rhythm of wheels on tracks deafens until there is nothing but the sound. We all but forget the creeping spiders of numbness that prickle their way down clammy palms. The heat drains from chest to heels to shag carpet to nothingness. We'd all like to do something dramatic like throw our phone or scream or feel hot tears stream down our cheeks but in real life that doesn't happen. In the Hollywood version there is an outlet-- the shared experience with all the ticketed onlookers. In this moment, this real life moment, we feel so damn sorry for ourselves that we can't even do something so basic as weep.
I'm going to do this:
National Novel Writing Month
For those that don't want to read the website or didn't know that was a link, here's the Reader's Digest version. You sign up, you write a novel of at least 50,000 words(read: novella)in one month (November). You upload your novel and it will count the words. What you get: 1. The satisfaction of having accomplished a crazy thing. 2. A novella, written by you. 3. The possibility of having it published in one of two ways. Either, like last year, they make a deal with a publishing company to print your manuscript for free if you completed it in time, OR you will revise and edit, revise and edit, revise and edit, revise and edit and get it published for real and make millions.
The reason I am doing this is because I can. Plus, it will be exhausting and fun and I will finally do something with my best idea.
Until then, November, I'll work on polishing my outline.
PS. I know it is in the middle of the semester. But I have nothing better to do. Who needs homework?
[Keep following all you second-rate hacks.
Join my club.]
