Blogging, writing journal, and expanding on a story I am developing. That puts me at an hour of writing every day at the very least. Granted, I don’t blog and write journal every day. But I still need to get to an hour of writing every day.
Preferably I should take the time to write two hours a day. That will be tiring. In the beginning anyway, until I get used to it.
The story I am developing only consists of fragments at this stage. I am working on tidbits and characters. Not to mention trying to figure out where I want to go with this, what needs to be in it.
For all intents and purposes this story of mine will take charge at one point or another and take me with it, not the other way around. But it is time for it to be written.
There are other things that need to be written as well, though. I might have to write several things at once, stories, if you will. As long as I don’t over reach, though. I wouldn’t want to lose track of myself.
I need to also go through stuff I have already written. I’ve got a couple of my notebooks and obviously my journals from the past two years within reach. A lot of my other notebooks are still at home, though, due to be brought over by my parents at the end of August.
Should I need them, I will ask my Mom to send them, but I don’t even remember what’s in them, so it’s pointless to have her pick some at random. It may or may not help and since most of them are in English, I wouldn’t ask her to skim through them to figure out what’s inside. Not that I’d ask her to do that were anything written in German.
But, I also have quite a few files on my hard drive, some of which I have already transferred to my new laptop. That means I do have some stuff to sift through. I’ve already found a file with a bit of the story that I am working on and just kept going working on another bit.
Right now I just have an idea, where it will take me, I couldn’t even guess. But I like the odds and ends I’ve come up with so far. Tons of work ahead, though.
Writing is hard work. That’s why I’ve preferred procrastinating up until now. I find, though, that I really can’t do it any longer. If writing is a terminal disease, then I’ve had symptoms on and off for twenty years now. Until now. Now it’s broken out fully and it is incurable indeed.