NaBloPoMo

November 1st.

I started a fitness challenge at my gym last month.

Think of the fitness challenge as a Bingo card. I had to black out the card during the month of October. Squares contained certain classes, certain instructors, certain locations, even certain workout times – hello, 5:30 a.m. wake up call. That’s not right, you guys.

I finished the workout challenge on October 30th. I received a free tank top.

I’m starting a writing challenge this month. There isn’t a tank top at the end unless you want to give me one.

This is my second year doing Rarasaur’s Nano Poblano.

I’m going to write a blog post for 30 days straight. To me, a blog post must be a story. If there isn’t a point to the post, it becomes words and I’ll lose you.

Believe me when I tell you completing a fitness challenge is easier than a writing challenge. And I consider myself a writer. The hardest part with a fitness challenge is showing up. I mean, yeah, working out sucks and you feel like you’re dying.

Dying is easy.

Storytelling is living. It’s hard.

I can show up at my computer every day but that won’t be good enough. My fingers, and maybe my mouth, are the only pieces of me that physically move. My head will be running a marathon. You won’t see that part. My head will be searching for the story every day. I won’t look different when I’m done. I probably won’t even feel different other than maybe mentally relieved. Lord knows I will not be waking up at 5:30 a.m. to write but I might for a free tank top.

You know that voice that’s in your head?

No, not your moral voice. Or the devil-on-one shoulder and angel-on-the-other voice. I mean the real voice. The voice you hear when you read a book to yourself. It’s the voice that thinks in the shower or in the car. That voice.

My voice talks a lot. She’s funny, most days. She’s way too shy to actually say the words out loud. The only way to let you hear her voice is to write down her voice. And that’s what you’re reading every time I sit down to write. I am not smart. I’m slow to learn and maybe a little immature. I believe people read my words because of my voice; it’s not because I’m intelligent and put mind-blowing thoughts into your head. The voice surprises me with her quick wit. Sometimes words just pop in my head. I laugh at her a lot.

And I hate it when the voice disappears. 

I’ve been working on a blog post about Emma going off to middle school but the voice in my head disappears every time I try to write. I can’t figure out why my voice stops talking at the keyboard. My own middle school experience? Or maybe I’m treading into Emma’s world. I need to let her live her life without my voice getting in the way.

It’s fine. I’ll find something else to write about for the next 30 days.

So the answer to your question is I don’t know.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about.

To answer your other question – Yes, I probably am psychotic and I just wrote a blog post on a voice that speaks to me. I write about her in the 3rd person and oh God, here we go.

She’s out.

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