Words, words, words ...

Once upon a time, I was a writer. Actually, I was pretty good at it, a two-time winner of the Canadian Author and Bookman Student Creative Writing Award for Short Fiction. (CA&B was the now-defunct magazine of the Canadian Authors Association, so I decided to take their word for it that I was pretty good. Look me up in the Canadian Periodicals Index for 1990 and 1992, under my maiden name. It's fun!)

But then I stopped writing. Part of it was that my writers' group underwent some major shifts, and I didn't feel comfortable there anymore. But the real reason I stopped writing was that I got lazy. I got married and suddenly I didn't have all of this angst that needed to be purged, and without the bi-weekly group to show up to, I just stopped. Simple as that.

Last year I thought I'd try NaNoWriMo, but I didn't have the attention span (or time) to try to write a novel in a month. Part of the reason I've always written short stories is that I can sit down and write one in one caffeine-fueled evening/early morning. Trying to sustain that much writing over the course of one month, and work and meet other responsibilities too, was just a little too much.

But then I stumbled across the 3-Day Novel Contest. Now, it might not seem logical for someone who could not write a novel in a month to try to do one in three days ... unless, of course, you're me. All 72 hours is, really, is a marathon "short story" session to me. With enough Diet Pepsi, it should be do-able. I don't have to work those three days, and odds are good I'll have a day to recover immediately afterwards. The only real commitment I have that weekend is a Weight Watchers meeting, and I can go to the Friday one instead.

The other thing is, I really feel as if this summer has been lost. It's been a rough ride, from beginning to end, and I really feel as if I haven't had any real time to just be me. To just do things for me. I know that sounds selfish, but the truth is that I'm simply feeling really drained from it all, and I need to do something just for me. And maybe this is it.

I will talk it over with Hubby. It is, in many ways, as much his decision as mine, as he will be the one looking after the animals, et cetera. Because it's going to be as if I'm not home. I won't be taking any phone calls, or going to the door. I won't be coming out of my office except for bathroom breaks and the occasional meal. I might not even sleep in our bed. Heck, I might not sleep at all! But I really, really want to give this a shot. And I think he'll go along with it.

Now, to figure out how many litres of Diet Pepsi this will take ...