Before I get too deep in my own thoughts, go sign up for Camp NaNoWriMo. I'll wait.
Yes, you do have time. Camp lets you set your own word count goal, so no excuses. Go sign up.
Because, writers, it's time to bloom again.
It's been a long winter, and now the world is creaking out of hibernation, and I, too, am stretching myself out into the sun after composting the last of winter's lessons into my flesh.
It doesn't matter what we have done before, what last year did or did not hold for our writing.
Accomplishment or failure, we can begin again, with no regard for the past. We can creak our rusted fingers into typing shape, wrench our minds from anxiety of swim suits and middle squishiness, and focus on what matters to us.
The page, the story, the word, the chat rooms, the creativity.
Time to bloom, time to let the words sprout from the gray covering of the old life. Time to write, and write with the joyous abandon of not caring about anything else than how many words an fit into thirty days (or 27 of you start today, like I am).
Camp NaNoWriMo. Are you in? I am.