Last night was one of those nights for me that you lay down and wonder what you've been doing with your life as of late. I've been doing a fair amount of reading, but I haven't been writing as much as I would like. I've been struggling to find a job and sweating my ass off in the heatwave, kind of treading water and going nowhere fast. I've decided to try and start writing a couple short stories--get something under my belt so the larger projects don't feel as intimidating. In reality, I don't have a short I really like, or would say I'm proud of, but that's primarily because I don't really write shorts. They always seem to quickly mold into larger ideas, straying away from something do-able to a major undertaking.
I'm going to start The Caretaker tonight, a story, at its roots, about ageism and classism. I'm guessing it's going to be around 20 pages, we'll see. I'd like to have a rough draft in a week. If I can get it done in a reasonable amount of time and feel good enough about it, I'll try and get it published. That would be nice.
