2005-03-09 - 9:37 a.m.

I think I've gotten myself into trouble. The writers group I'm in has issued a challenge. Daily word counts. Oh, boy. This is where the sheep are separated from the goats I guess. Well, it was only a couple (maybe three) months ago that I was pumping out a story a day - practically - so this really shouldn't be that hard. But, I've gotten used to sleep and gotten out of the habit of daily writing.

So, now I need an idea. I think I'm just going to write a really rambling novel - not even a novel so much as a series of related episodes surrounding a certain group of characters. I have vague inklings in my mind of one character, and I think I am going to go back to some ideas I was pumped about a few weeks ago and try to merge some of that into this other, less ambitious idea.

I think the lines between fantasy and reality in this novel, as with the rest of my life, will probably be blurry. I mean, I can't even tell when I'm telling the truth some days so why would I think that my characters would be any better, any more perceptive than myself?

I'm a tad nervous that this will hurt some of my other commitments (such as ALPHA and my Wednesday night bible study) but I'm just going to try and plunge through it. Realistically, it's not like I have a huge social life to balance. As long as I keep up on my reading for the Wednesday night study and as long as I stay on the Bible bus I should be okay in terms of being grounded in God's word, and I should be able to do that.

Normally, on my way to work, I stop and veg out at a Starbucks (sorry!) for thirty minutes. I can use that thirty minutes to write. And, if I wake up just twenty five minutes earlier, at 6 AM instead of 6:25AM, that will give me fifty-five minutes to write.

Plus, I keep a bottle of no-doze by my bed. I've never used it and rarely even think about it, but if push comes to shove, maybe I'll just start popping a couple of those every morning as I reach to turn off my alarm.

Am I crazy? Probably. That's what the salamanders who live under my bed say. But they say all kinds of things, like: "Richard, it's time to make the donuts" or "Use Vicks cough drops" or "She sells sea shells down by the sea shore". They talk and talk and that doesn't worry me anymore. What worries me is the fact that they are building pyramids in my closest using little-tiny Hebraic-looking salamander-slaves. I'm keep an eye out for a slamandic Moses. Then I'm going to cut and run.


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