Fin

There is a part in the movie Date Night when Tina Fey yells at all the men holding guns and says something like "My kids are going to have me up in 90 minutes so this sh*t ends now!".

I've been hearing Tina Fey yelling that at me for a little while now.

Since the end of NaNoWriMo, I've felt as though I am in a writerly slump. I get up, turn on the computer, and proceed to spend hours thinking about writing, wanting to write, but not actually writing a thing. It is like the urge is there, but nothing behind it. It is kind of like how I really wanted homemade chocolate chip cookies last night and instead of getting off the couch and making them, I just thought about them. Now, this was probably better health-wise, it gets to my point of just thinking and not doing.

Well, in the words of Tina Fey, this sh*t ends now.

I'm going back to good writer Charly. I don't care if it is cold outside. I'm dragging my a$$ to a coffee shop if writing won't happen at home. And I mean, dragging my butt there early. Way early. Not even cool early.

None of this "I'm going to write after lunch" crap. Because I don't. I open the computer and then fight to stay awake. Nope, it ends now.

I keep thinking about writing an eBook, figuring out the self-publishing side of writing. Well, I'm just going to do it, folks.

I'm tired of listening to the voices inside my head claim they want to be a writer while also saying that I should sit on my couch and read Tweets. Hell no, brain. No Twitter...and no blogs for you unless you've written something.

I keep thinking I should be working on a play since that is what I've been submitting lately. Well, my brain is too all-over-the-place to focus on one genre, so lookout! Poetry, plays, the next great American novel, I-wish-I-had-my-PhD-in-Women's/Performance/Ethnic/American Studies or I-read-so-many-books-on-yoga-now-that-Sanskrit-is-now-my-second-language articles, etc. They are all being written. Because I said so. Because this sh*t ends now.

I've made a commitment to follow my dream. I dealt with scary conversations about dropping out of graduate school for this dream. I've told you all about this dream. And it is coming true, little by little, but it will only continue if I stop messing around. So. This is me. Stopping.

Ending the crap.

Done.

Sign, Sealed, Delivered.

Whoomp! There it is!