Yes, it happened: I finally got my tan on. And it was fabulous.
I also bought new shoes (or, really, my mommy bought new shoes for me) and picked up my glasses. Not a bad morning, I must say. I also convinced myself to do a little packing and finish the Jodi Picoult book that’s been sitting on my night stand for the past week. I never really know what to do with my life after I finish reading one of her books. I just sort of sat there for awhile, wondering what should come next.
Well, I really haven’t decided. More packing, probably, since I’m now OFFICIALLY moving furniture back into my apartment on Sunday. Yeah, two days from now. Can you say reality check? No, I don’t think my brain remembers how to distinguish between real and not real anymore. Not after fifteen credit hours crammed into ten weeks. Shudder.
I will say, though, I’ll miss having “free time” to write. I worked for another hour or so on my memoir yesterday, and I went back and added more to the beginning. Now that a completely different line is there to open the book, I feel much better about the whole thing. Because if you don’t grab your readers’ attention right away, you haven’t done your job as a writer. And I hope the line I chose does better than I’d initially expected it could.
The first line: “These are the confessions of a remorseful victim of disorder.” What do you think? I like it. But that’s just me. I may be a tad bit biassed.
I’m not going to lie, though, I do miss my JulNo novel a bit. INow you understand why I wasn’t lying when I said this shift in focus was not, in fact, an act of cheating on my characters). But since I feel like writing about my past is a more pressing matter at the moment, I’m willing to put my novel on the back-burner for awhile. Unlike a few of my other JulNo and NaNo novels, I don’t plan on permanently abandoning the project. There’s too much there. I can’t just leave it out in the cold. I’m keeping it close to my heart, even if I haven’t opened it since, technically, last month.
That’s how you know you love something. No matter what more important things come up, there’s no way you could ever leave behind something you’ve truly put your heart and soul into.
I just don’t want my brain to get too cluttered. After all, biochemistry is about to suck out the rest of my sanity. I need something to fall back on.
I’ll never change my major, I said. I’ll be a successful author right out of college, I said.
Technically, I didn’t change my major. I just added one.
And I wonder why my characters’ lives are always so complicated.