However, if you prefer someone who’s a bit more locked in…
Take a look at this post from daily writing tips.com
Or…be your own writing coach.
I want to live in a world where employees get paternity/maternity leave for when a new dog or cat joins the family. It makes perfect sense!
“Snuffles, this is where you will sleep.” *
“Jujubee, this is when I will feed you.” **
“Angel Face, that’s what the backyard is for.” ***
“Forsythia, we’re going to have to change your name.” ****
“Maxwell, I’m going to have to discipline you.” *****
* “Yes, this is my chest.”
** “With intermittent snack times pending your approval.”
*** “Or at least not the living room.”
**** “No animal deserves that name.”
***** “I’ll be shortening our snuggle time by ten seconds.”
Okay, since Mr. Goins has not delivered the writing challenge prompt for today, allow me to step in.
But first a word from our unnamed [but still gathering data on your browsing tendencies] sponsor…
Have you noticed that the only difference between ‘donut’ and ‘don’t’ is ‘u’?
And now back to our regularly-scheduled programming…
As for me, I just finished mine. [I hate ‘smug’, don’t you?]
Today’s 500-word topic: List your fears.
So I fear that I’m not going to finish this January 500 word challenge.
I fear that I won’t finish the projects I’ve started and that Jon Acuff will send out his procrastination police to drag me in front of a vicious, closed minded tribunal that will throw me into a dank, dark motel room on the outskirts of Bumwiddle, Wisconsin in the middle of winter and force me to finish all my started projects.
I fear that the entire state of Wisconsin will turn against me because I happened to choose their fine, cheese-laden state as the locale of my fictional town, as if to suggest that it represents the hickest, most outlying place in the universe, which isn’t at all true.
I fear that they won’t believe that I actually used a random number generator to determine the number of the state I would choose.
I fear that I will never get to eat cheese again because of my unfortunate choice of that fine state.
I fear that I’m running off the road, in a writerly sense.
I fear that I will never get around to watch Tim Ferriss’s TED talk on fear setting.
I fear that, because I’m not Scandinavian, I will never get around to Swedish death cleaning.
I fear that I’ll never make it to the rescue shelter and give another dog a chance at a life of no training, regular meals and walks and car trips, comfortable naps on the bed, and lots of love.
I fear that I won’t talk myself into buying that MacBook that I ceaselessly pine for in 84.6% of my posted writing.
I fear that anyone who reads this will lock in on the cheap, tawdry word-count-cheating tactic of repeating the words, “I fear that…”
In my attempt to nail that exact quote from the dad character about Swedish death cleaning and decluttering in general, I fear that last week’s episode of The Middle will never come up on another screen in Chrome. I fear that I’ll be watching these buffering dots
on ABC’s website for the rest of my life.
I feared that I would never climb out of the suffocating Internet rabbit hole/search for the above-mentioned quote.
I used a handful of kettle corn to snap me out of it.
So I fear that I will rely too heavily on kettle corn to solve [or salve] any future bouts with the Internet’s multitude of distractions.
I fear that you will all find out that I am listening to Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass while writing this. [Something magical about instrumental music and cranking out meaningless prose.]
I fear that I now have less than ten words to, as slave driver Jeff Goins, the evil mastermind behind this 15,500 word challenge, suggests: “do something with this fear.”
I fear that my math might be off.
I fear that Professor Goins may not accept ‘fear spewing’ as a productive first step in my attempt to “do something with this fear.”
Seems I’m getting a little text-fatigued lately.
At least that’s my piddly excuse for engaging in a short detour into the world of semi-useful graphics.
I figured creating these mailing labels for a colleague’s upcoming birthday was just the ticket. Jon Acuff, in his book Finish: Give Yourself the Gift of Done, which, no, I still haven’t finished, would label this little departure from more important projects, a ‘noble objective’.
[It just hit me…this post isn’t exactly a solid endorsement for his book, is it?]
Then again, it may just be a plaintive cry for help from someone who just can’t [or doesn’t want to] stay focused, because this book really is the real deal. It’s like he knows me. [I take that back. If he really knew me, he’d probably shake his head and see me as a lost cause.] Whatever the case, I like the book and I am learning, if not immediately applying, a lot.
You’re not just a writer of novels or blog posts or weekly columns.
You are a listener. You’re a storyteller. You condense thoughts. You cut through blather and deliver a message. You’re a narrator. You ask the right questions. You catch details most people glide right past.
There is a need for you and your talents.