a word a day

Writers should write. Everyday. I write for a living, something I dreamed of doing when I was growing up, albeit in a different kind of situation. Instead of making up stories to share with the world, I condense the stories of somebody's life into thirty second clips for someone else to read on television. And not only does it have to sound good, it has to flow with other stories that go around it, and be relevant to someone somewhere. I'd still like to make up stories someday. Something independent from things around it and that may be relevant to someone for other reasons.




I'm on day two of a ten day vacation. This comes after working nineteen days straight covering wildfires in Texas and running a telethon for a rehab center. So that's ten days of not writing, and I thought I'd start this back up again so I don't get rusty. You have to do it everyday, and all that.

I'm spending the weekend with my lovely fiancé's family. They're good people, a fine replacement for the extended family that I never get to see and feel guilty about it. The conversation goes into hunting sometimes and I'm sure my eyes gloss over. No, I don't want to go with you. Because I don't like guns and I've never killed anything and I'm 27 and don't feel like starting.

I'm hoping writing some entries will spark some ideas for the making up stories part of the whole thing. Jana says it will be therapeutic. It will probably be both, I'd imagine. We'll be home tomorrow and I have a week long vacation with my couch and a DVR full of new episodes of Doctor Who, The Killing, Camelot, and everything else I'm behind on. I'm hoping I can use this process to talk about my love of storytelling. Writers should read, too. And absorb. And think about what they're absorbing. If I never see a grassfire again in my life, I think I'll be good. Let's see what happens.