642 things to write about was a surprise early birthday gift.  Proving my friends belief in my potential to write creatively and their knowledge of my potential to lay in bed and talk about writing rather than writing.  So I thought, hmm.... lets see if I can get through each of these exercises in the next 2 years.  Writing one a day that gives me approximately... 88 days to lay in bed talking about writing instead of writing! Then factor in NaNoWriMo with 30 days off in November to indulge a writing marathon full of whimsy and voila I will have 28 days to be scrawl and scribble free! (In two years?  unlikely...).

So I thought to myself, “What would make this even more of a challenge?” (to be honest the word I thought was more interesting, but I like to write myself as brave).  "No?" You say with a questioning tone.  I answer immediately assuming your as enthusiastic as I am (who wouldn't be?).  “To write all the 642 things to write about into one story with a set of reappearing characters!”  I await your enthusiastic response “Why!?”  You exclaim, showing a lack of faith in my over-ambitious plans (how could you...).  I answer full of confidence (which once again is the only way I will ever write myself).  “Because…..” And here I draw a blank.  OK, so I revert to an older childish version of myself “Just because!”  And I leave it at that.  Because, really, what more is there to say?

You look at me with doubt in your eye, and though I would never admit to any doubt when putting myself to pen, a niggle in the back of my mind makes me add “It doesn't always have to be in the stories chronological order..." it probably does I think to myself, "or even add to any particular plot that may have arisen," this time I verbally correct myself. "Ok so it probably does have to fit into a plot and there must be a group of set characters but it will be easy because …” I trail off “Ill still leave things open…. Or Ill….” I clear my throat and regain the confidence that never falters when I am represented in the written word.  “It will work!”

You smile and nod.  “Ok.  So it will sort of resemble one of those ancient monstrous novels that used to be published in short segments each week in the local newspaper, that ramble on and on.”  “Yes” I say giving you a scowl at your less than admirable description.  “But I wouldn't call any of Dickens or Dumas novels monstrous, or rambling… ok rambling at times.”  I amend with respect and awe in my voice.  “And” I amend, “my story will be much more…” I search for the word  “surprising, as I will have to integrate vastly different chapters.  For example when I write about being a peasant in 1890’s Russia and then write about appearing on a talk show… there may have to be some time travel involved.”   I add, while already  wondering how to write those two segments in.  I trail off in thought.  You let me because you don't want to hinder any spectacular ideas that may make me a New York Times Bestselling Author.

So with a plan in place, and ideas starting to unfold, I whisper to the universe.  A little afraid that shouting will make it irreversible.

“Ready... Set... Write…”

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