Writer & Ardent Atheist
Ready. Set. Write.
Oh shit! This is actually happening. I am actually starting a novel. I just finished outlining all of the events, and splitting them into twenty chapters. All in all, I am incredibly happy with what I have accomplished thus far; now comes the crazy part. I’m done pre-production, and now I have to begin production. I have to, you know, write a fucking novel.
The silly thing is that I’m not even worrying about sticking to it. I should be worrying about my commitment, but that isn’t it at all. I’m worrying about what will happen when my family ends up reading it. There is some pretty graphic stuff in this, and I don’t know how I am going to bring it up to them. “By the way, Grandma, that book that I just gave you has graphic depictions of lesbian sex. Enjoy.” Ungh. My mind is constantly on a loop about how embarrassing it will be to face my family after they’ve read it. Mind you, I haven’t even written the first word of the book yet.
I am going to chill out for a bit, and then try to crank out chapter one before I pass out from exhaustion. Wish me luck.
