So I logged in this morning all excited to prove to the 2.5 people who read this blog that I would not forget to post in June. No, I would not break my three-and-a-half year streak of posting at least once a month since January 2009, when I first created it. Not happening. Nope.
But I posted on June 1st, about my brother. So now I don’t have any told-you-so dances to do while you’re reading this. Insert sad face here.
I’ll be posting as much as I can starting tomorrow, of course – tomorrow, the first of July. Those of you who have been following me all this time know what July means in the wonderful world of Meg.
Yes. July Novel Writing Month. JulNoWriMo, they call it. 50,000 words of insanity.
It will be my fifth consecutive year participating in this contest, and there’s no way I’m going to let five thousand credit hours (excuse the hyperbole) and an online internship stop me from keeping up this love-hate relationship with my ridiculous need to crank out 50,000 words in 31 days every summer. It’s not my fault I’m crazy. I was born this way, you know.
Not writing novels, I mean. That would have been awkward.
The month of celebrating 21 years of this roller coaster of a life begins at midnight. I’m ready. Are you?