Every year, coming up on November, my brain starts to twist and turn.  What story am I going to write this year?  What world am I going to build it in?  And since my first year, when I won with a novel that will never see the light of day, I haven’t finished a damn one.  Most didn’t even make it to 10k.

This year, I have decided not to deal with any of the pitfalls that come with writing in a world that I don’t fully understand.  This does not mean that I am writing in this one, though.  Oh, no.  This year, I’m not writing a story.  This year, I’m going to build my world.

It’s in my head.  It wants to come out and play.  It wants to be fleshed out, every nook and crannies explored.  So that’s exactly what I am going to do.  I am going to put down every detail that wants to come, from what is where, to why the world works, to the different kinds of people, and the Religion.

There’s already a bunch of detail that has tried to come out.  And I’ve written down a bit.  But I will not be using those words towards my 50k.  And I will achieve 50k this year.  It will be so much easier to bounce around in a world build, than in a supposedly cohesive story.

So wish me luck and follow my progress.  This is going to be fun.

Living in the World as a Woman.

I have made the choice not to live in fear.  I leave the house at night, I ride the bus alone, and I will not let my life be ruled by fear.
But it’s still there.  I am still aware, making choices to look you in the eye when I am walking alone at night.  To cross to the other side of the street if I’m about to pass a man in the dark.  I put my bag next to me on the bus to try to keep that seat unoccupied.  Because for some reason you are less likely to touch my stuff than you are to touch me.
The life of a woman, any woman, is frought with fear.  Our brains are constantly working, to make snap decisions about whether we can trust you or not.  And you will never understand it.  I find that very sad.
There is a difference between choosing not to let my fears rule me, and choosing to be a victim.  A friend of mine was told that recently.  That it is our choice to be a victim.  And the person it came from was chewing on their own foot at the time, because I think I know what they were trying to say.  But that came off so badly.
So stop telling us how we should act.  Stop telling us what we should do.  You are not us.  If we say that you are creepy, then you are acting creepy.  Deal with it.