Do NaNoWriMo

I will try again next year.

That’s me, crashing and burning. The only thing I have managed to write is a couple of weeks’ worth of lesson plans and the bibliography and outline for an eight page paper on female empowerment and Titus Andronicus (Lavinia is stronger than you think!)

I am just saving it up for the weekend. Isn’t that the name of a really bad disco song?

Why on earth do I think I will be able to accomplish this goal? The only writing I have done in the last 12 years is academic, and even that is time consuming and difficult. When I write, I have problems going from one sentence to the next, until each is perfect; it does cut down, however, on the revision process. Still, I will have to pull just shy of 2000 words out of my >erm< ear on a daily basis. And I no longer drink coffee! I still have to work, I still have to grade papers, I still have the stupidest Shakespeare class on the face of the planet, and I still have to feed the kids and animals. Oh, yeah. My husband is in the throes of his first year of teaching. Ye gods and little fishies!

I am actually trying to clear the boards a little. Today, I am finishing a presentation for class, and I am getting my grades done. Unfortunately next weekend I need to write an 8 page paper for class. Since I am the teacher, I will figure out how to have the kids grade their own papers (rough, since English seems to be a lost art). The kids, well, they are old enough to forage and they will just have to feed the critters. The husband thing may be problematic, though. Oh well.

Excelsior!

I am signed up. Goodness knows whether I will have the intestinal fortitude to actually overcome my stupendous writer’s block and participate. I can blog, but I haven’t written a coherent paragraph of fiction in 15 years. Honestly, it probably wasn’t coherent then, either.