It’s NaBloPoMo time of year again. National Blog Posting Month. That month of November for writing that is so near and dear to my heart.
Yes, that’s right, I’m going to plague you every single day for the month of November – already.
And I have less of an action plan ready than I did last year, but I don’t care. I’ma doing it.
I didn’t want to use November 1st as the obligatory announcement. That’s so last year, and the year before and, well you get it. How interesting is that? The whole world of NaBloPoMo all writing to let everyone know this is it. The big month, the time of year we all look forward to. Just how many posts like that can you read? And just how much can you tell about a writer from that?
Still, here I am, day two and what. I’ve got nothing. No ideas. I’m tired, it’s Friday and I haven’t had an interesting idea all day that doesn’t require a couple of hours of research. (Darn it Julia, you’re doing it again!)
So I head over to check out prompts. What can I write about that isn’t researched or journalistic but still interesting, or entertaining.
I use NaBloPoMo as a writing exercise to write. That’s what it is to me. A chance to push my skills and make the commitment. A pledge to annual training. A tribute to my readers. An exercise in intelligent discussion. A step into a bolder me, because it ain’t no exercise for sissies. AND it’s FUN.
And today’s prompt? “Where would you like to live?”
I can’t. I just can’t. That’s like my second grade paper.
And so I looked over the other prompts, which were just as boring as the first. Who wants to read that? Um, ‘cuz hey, I like NaBloPoMo because it’s fun and creative. And creativity wasn’t even slightly provoked in those questions.
I want to know more. I want to know the story behind the story.
I want to know, what’s the first thing you think of when you see the color blue and why?
I want to know, if you sat by the railroad tracks nearest to your home, what birds you might see?
I want to know, what food in your life has had the most impact upon you and how?
I want to know what it was like to hold your first grandchild?
I want to see things not just from a different angle, but from your mind.
Why do you write? And why should I read?
I want to notice you.