Hello, world.

I have returned from a long, arduous journey into La-La land where I did nothing except laze about, pondering the benefits of pet adoption and gorging myself on bon-bons and holiday food.  Then, I returned to the Real World, complete with a canine companion, to discover that (gasp), I had turned 25 and had just witnessed yet another unfulfilled dream pass me by.

What unfulfilled dream, say you?

Well, I had long promised myself two things: (1) that I would complete a manuscript by age 25, and (2) that I would do everything in my power to get published by age 30.

Um… I’m three months into my 25th year of existence with no completed manuscript in sight.  The goal of publication is an elusive dream I’ve yet to chase with abandon since I gave myself excuses to not write.

“I need more life experience,” 21-year-old me moaned, hand over my face.  “What do I know?”

So, I set out to gain aforementioned experience.  I moved to LA.  I got a full-time job.  I graduated college with a B.A. in English.  I took a year off, then applied to graduate school in Orange County.  I enrolled, moved out of LA, and became an “older” pledge for a sorority — certainly not the traditional route most take when joining the sisterhood.  I subsequently decided that graduate school wasn’t my cup of tea because I was more interested in writing my own stories instead of analyzing classics according to literary theory — which, as an English grad student, wasn’t going to fly.  So, I dropped out to become a word-artiste!

And instead, I worked my nine to five, slowing sinking into the comfortable, familiar pattern of work-home-walk dog-eat dinner-sleep-rinse & repeat.

Then 2009 came rushing in, and I opened my eyes to my stagnant world.  How, oh how, had I turned 25 without writing that manuscript?!

Out of that frustration came my personal 2009 challenge: if I was going to get serious about my writing, it had to be now.  Today.  Not tomorrow, not next year.  Now.

Special thanks to the ladies of East Valley Authors, who sent over a nice letter inviting me to join their chapter and providing the proverbial kick in the backside that I needed to get in gear.  Within two weeks of receiving that letter, I trucked off to the monthly meeting of the Los Angeles Romance Authors to see Megan Crane and Liza Palmer do a presentation entitled, Jane Austen Loves Chick Lit.  I met a host of incredible women, all of whom were supportive, motivated, and encouraging.

And when I walked out, I realized that my ridiculous timeline is not set in stone.  Sure, it’s a goal I ought to strive for, but I’m still 25.  I can still complete a manuscript in a year.  I’ve gained a quarter-century’s worth of life experiences!  it isn’t much, but it’s something to go on.  And really, if not now… when?

To help motivate me, I’ve decorated my room to be a constant reminder that I must go forth and write.

My bedroom wall of inspiration (this hangs above my bed)

My bedroom wall of inspiration.

I’ve already got the idea in place.  All that’s left to do is to sit down and… well, write… and never stop until I have the whole messy thing out of my head, and down on paper.

Here’s to BICHOK (and notes scattered about my harddrive and Moleskine notebook)!