For once in my life, I’m in the mood to write. Apparently, this means nothing because I do not know what to write about. I’ve finished my book titled The Ultimate Guide to Not Sucking at Human Interactions, and it doesn’t really need anymore work. If I went back to it, I’d just sit there and read it for the billionth time because I think I’m so funny.
I have a journal I’ve been maintaining, but that doesn’t sound super fun right now. I handwrote a letter to my boyfriend yesterday. I also wrote a short letter to my best friend. Writing those were fun. I haven’t written letters in a bit.
I have some other book ideas, and I’ve actually started a sequel to The Ultimate Guide. I’m a bit stuck on it, though. I might keep what I already have, but I’m running out of material already, so I might need to change the premise.
I’ve totally neglected my blog this year. It’s easier for me to write in my journal, where I know no one else will have to read my musings. I would hate to bother people with my writing (no need to mention nobody has to read anything I write).
250 words in, and I still don’t know what to write about. Heck, I have two books with nearly 700 writing prompts I bought at Half Price Books, and perusing those doesn’t sound like any fun either. What a weird mood this is. I’m very rarely hit by the desire to write. Usually, when I am, I have a pretty good idea what I want to write about.
There is this thing called the Bulwer-Lytton horrible sentence contest, and I’ve entered several horrible sentences to their portal. Maybe I should just write some more of those? I’ve submitted ten or so already. You can send them year ‘round. I think the winners are announced in August. There’s only one winner. The honorable mentions get airtime, too. I’m hoping for one of those. My writing in “print”! I’d be speechless! Just kidding, I’d totally screenshot it and share it everywhere.
If I was in the mood to be funny, I’d be able to work on my satirical sequel. Maybe I’m not even in the mood to write; maybe I’m just in the mood to avoid reading? Maybe I should revisit my memoir. It’s been a hot minute since I looked at that.
Bit of a pointless post. But if anyone cares, I’m still alive.