Big Lu's Book of Nonsense

Can you tell that my blog writing efforts are getting even more puny? It's cause I've been writing big stories. You know how I always said I would write big stories and maybe even a book someday and then I'd start writing chunks of it and claim "I'm doing it!" but then it would fizzle out because I had a long way to go and real life would get too busy and then a year passes and maybe you (because certainly I did) wondered if I'd ever actually do it?
I did it. And I've been final drafting and editing lately so when I sit down for blog time I'm out of gas. And I promise the whole thing isn't a big run-on sentence like I just wrote up there. It has 23 chapters and probably too much punctuation. My very last thing to do is to reassess my abundant use of commas and finally look up how to properly quote and punctuate dialogue. It's different everywhere you look so I've always done my own thing ... because who really cares?

There are two things I'm happy about.
First, I'm happy to have written all of the stories throughout my twenties. If I was a mile-marker person I'd say I'm happy that I wrote a book before I turned thirty (just barely) (and I think I mean mile-stone person ... but who really cares?) but really, it's that I like the idea that these were Big Lu's observations and thoughts when she was in the earliest stages of adulthood. I like the thought that I'd do it again, maybe during my forties, and see how my outlook has changed. Or just gotten grumpier.

Second, I like that after all these years complaining that I would write a book if the world would slow down for a second and I just had more time, it turns out I actually meant that. Once my weddings deserted me I really got to work and was surprised to find that I wasn't entirely using real-life-busy as an excuse to avoid something challenging. Look at me having a pinch of motivation. Additionally, Big Mama told me I needed to be using this time to write stories and she picked out her favorite ones to get my little writing train on its tracks.

I have two stories left and then this ten year process will end. For kicks I'll see about getting it published but it's an unpopular genre written by and unpopular person so the likelihood isn't great. During my research about publishers, editors and agents I became obsessed with all of it and got stressed and defeated and cranky. It's not easy to get a book published, especially if you're a nobody. I got so wrapped up in meeting the industry's standard requirements that suddenly I needed to write the next great American-novel-turned-screenplay and I hated it. That's not what I write. Most people don't get me as it is. How am I supposed to write a book that them'asses will like? I had to let go of the idea of "success" in order to continue writing the book. Which is very me.