I've known about NaNoWriMo for a few years now. I even have the book, "No Plot? No Problem!". I know that I can write, and should do so more often.
I also know that I am a perfectionist, and that I try too hard and shoot too high most of the time.
I need to stop doing that, and this blog has always been about that. I need to step it up, though--I need to give myself that deadline, that freedom, that push.
I just learned to type a few months ago. You know, home-row touch-typing? Since our first family computer in 1989 and up until this Summer, I had always been a (very very fast) hunt-and-peck typist. It was fun and it was funny, but touch-typing is a hell of a lot cooler.
I'm putting it to use.
I don't have a plot, but I have a theme. Well, something like it, anyway; what I have is a loose concept, kind of a feel, kind of a...vibe. I thought of it the other day, driving home from work. I like it. It's comfortable. It makes little sense and that's how I like it.
I'm gonna write something funny, weird, bitter-sweet and rambunctious. I'm going to play absurd fantasy games with my late childhood, the end of my teens; I will be following the same path that Walter Hill followed when writing Streets of Fire, as told to us by Wikipedia:
According to Hill, the film's origins came out of a desire to make what he thought was a perfect film when he was a teenager and put in all of the things that he thought were "great then and which I still have great affection for[.]"
In other words, I'm going to write my late teens the way they should have been, with robots and alien gods and ridiculous misadventures and all the crazy stuff that never really happened, couldn't happen and would probably break the cosmos in some way or another if it did happen.
Done rambling. See ya in 30.