December

So... December is here, which means I will return to blogging on a regular basis. My little experiment in the National Novel Writing Month was unsuccessful, sadly, in the stated goal of finishing a 50,000 word novel in a month. Then again, it's rather silly--wouldn't you say?--to think that a minimum of 1,700 words/day would be possible given full-time single parenthood, full-time employment, a neurotic dog, and sleep. Forget the fact that I haven't written a lick of fiction in more than three and a half years.

The end result? Twenty-two thousand words on their way to being some sort of novel, quite possibly just a long-form therapy piece that unstops the rest. Who knows right now. Regardless, it's good to be writing again, and I've begun to parse out what it would take to get back to the Coney Island book--albeit as a non-fiction narrative.

That said, I've started to think through--again--what the role of this blog should be. I have decried public soul-baring and journaling in the past, but the reality is that between personal notes on food, parenting, music, politics, and other random observations, there will always be a personal bent to this little endeavor. It is, however, my goal to begin turning the (impolitic) eye outward again. Traumas like the shooting (and the divorce) will always be with me, and that's where they belong rather than laid out as a constant, public navel-gazing. The advantage of this free forum is that it gives me the chance to explore other territory, thoughts, and ideas that may inform my other endeavors--and which may give the few regular readers and random visitors something a little more valuable to consider.