words

showing up to work at 6:15 a.m. only to get off and then spend six hours in a toyota camry to surprise my family on thanksgiving was perhaps the most liberating and cool thing i have done thus far in my young adult life. showing up on someones doorstep unannounced is an incredible experience for both parties involved. not only did i successfully surprise my relatives but also a handful of friends who were all in town for the holiday and also our five-year high school reunion. a truly incredible weekend; yet i can't talk about it. not because i'm trying to censor what happened, but simply because i have lost my voice.

fear of sounding like i'm trying too hard

mentally over the whole blog format and searching for a new platform

wondering if i'm just wasting my time and energy, if anyone is benefitting from this

more motivated to focus on writing a book

pure laziness

it is most likely a combination of all of these things/reasons/excuses. call it what you want to call it. fact of the matter is that something is inhibiting the thoughts in my head from coming to life on the keyboard, and that is like a death sentence to a writer.

so, i have resolved to the following solution: if i can't write words, i will read them. lots of them. from glenn beck's common sense to katie crouch's girls in trucks, the stack of words is grinning at me from across the table. "pick me! pick me!" they are chanting. "i will help you get your voice back." i reason that reading the work of other writers will help me develop and fine-tune my own writing style and push me in the direction that i need to be going. if the winningest coach in college sports history, a couple of experts on late bloomers, or a girl with a dragon tattoo can't help me, i don't know what will.

oh yes, and thank you public library.