Now he was gone and done with, and I just let it be. She only ever mentioned him again in passing and the nuisance the divorce paperwork had caused her.

“You could read the story of my love-life, or the miserable failings of it rather, through stacks and stacks of government stamped papers. Notary signed,” she said.

And to be honest with you, I don’t care too much to mention him ever again. But not including him in the first place  would be leaving out some bits that would make the story incomplete—like the stories in the bible preachers conveniently omit from their sermons when they don’t exactly matchup with what they’re trying to teach. You just know something’s off. So he’s here. And now he’s gone.

Today I woke up with the sinking feeling that everything I’ve written so far is awful. It took everything in my power not to go back and read and edit. I wonder if these self-doubts about ever being good enough to write will ever go away.

Oh well. Keep writing. No stopping.

Let’s go.

The goal: write 1,000 words (roughly four pages) every single day. The challenge: write these 1,000 words without going back and editing. EVER. If I succeed, I will have 284 pages in 62 days—basically, a first draft.

Today I restarted my first draft from page 1 after taking a few weeks to develop my characters, brainstorm my backstory and create an outline. I started back at page 1, because I decided to go back to a first person POV, and because I wanted to do it right this time around. I wanted to write without looking back.

To be honest, I wasn’t feeling very inspired when I started out today, and was tempted to stop and go back to it later (when I thought I might be more into it). I knew that this would be a big mistake and told myself that this was exactly what I needed to break out of.

I need to sitdown and write no matter what. I need to develop a true a writing habit. And It worked. I started writing slowly (a few minutes spent staring at the screen) and then it poured out. I was over 1,000 words and one chapter down by the time I stopped.

And I vow not to look at this chapter again until the rewrite.

Onward!

Some of you might already know what my book will be about (or the gist of it) and who my muse is, but for those of you who don’t, here’s some hints:

Today was my first day as a free(lance) woman. A year ago, even six months ago, I could have never imagined being at this point. I never would’ve had the guts to do it then. I was too logical. Too set into my ways of doing what I thought I needed to do in life.

Doing something like this is something I would’ve looked down upon back then. Thanks to some darker hours, a lot of pestering/encouragement from Matt, and acceptance from my family (and myself), I’m forgetting about being practical for the time being, and making a go of doing what I’ve always wanted to do—to write a novel.

A lot of people talk about what they want to do in their lives: to paint, to write, to make music, to start their own business, to go back to school … but a lot of times people are too scared to make that leap—especially if it is starting from scratch.

So here it is. I’m going to make a go of it. In the meantime, I’ve escaped (even if it’s temporarily) the cubicle. I’m making my own schedule and ensuring that I have several hours a day dedicated to writing.

So here’s to being irrational. Here’s to giving it my all. Here’s to writing this book.