The Mother Story

There's a book I've been trying to write for a long time. It's a lunatic book to write because it has a lot of elements that are close to my insanity. I've been trying to write this book, in various forms, since I got pregnant with my son, let's see, that was in 1999. What a wild, untrammeled success this book has been so far! Inspiring.

The first time I finished Nanowrimo, I chose a plot/idea/genre I thought I could handle easily in a month, that I could plan meticulously and then mechanically execute. I succeeded at the 50K, so that was maybe me figuring out that I could do it. Last year for Nanowrimo, I wrote a hard, huge story I'd been tossing around for a long time, and in writing it, I extirpated it, and now it's gone. I mean, it's still here, but it's no longer in my skull. Then, for Script Frenzy, I did that very same thing. And now that thing is out of my skull. So, Nanowrimo and Script Frenzy have proven to be valuable in getting rid of those stories that keep clunking around in my brain, wanting to be written.

Why not apply this magical benefit to the mother of all clunkers, which has been known through the years as "the cul de sac story" and "the sister story" and "baldy goes to burma" and "the mother story." If I can get this one out of my system, I might just achieve enlightenment. I might just solve all the world's problems, or at least my own problems, which as so few and so unobtrusive that I have to fictionalize them to make them viable enough to affect me.

So, that's what I started writing at midnight last night. For better or for worse, I have cannonballed into the deep end of the pool, where the ghouls keep drowning, and now I have to fight my way up. I guess I'm only 500 words in, so I can't say yet that my head has gone underwater. Maybe later today though! Wee!

What would I be wearing, in this extended metaphor? I think I would be wearing a little girl one-piece, with a frill in rows along the butt.