Maybe it’s morbid to talk about your inevitable death on your birthday.
Or maybe one’s birthday is an ideal time to reflect upon the natural ending of things, as well as the things you want to accomplish before your own end time, and more importantly, the barriers, both real and imaginary, that stand in your way.
A/N: #BoostMyBio is an optional blog hop hosted by Audra (Auggie) Atoche. It’s offered as an unofficial part of Pitch Wars, a writing mentorship program/contest with a vibrant online community found on Twitter under the hashtags #PitchWars, #PWPoePrompts, and #BoostMyBio. You don’t have to be entering Pitch Wars to join this blog hop, so if interested, follow these instructions.
My name is Janna and I’m a writer of adult historical fiction living in Vancouver, BC on the west coast of Canada.
I am new to the #PitchWars community and have already had a great experience meeting other hopefuls online, learning how to write a synopsis(!), and getting my manuscript revised and ready for the main event in August(!!). Continue reading
Last week I posted my 300th blog post. And true to form, missed out on commemorating the occasion.
This is something of a trend for me when it comes to my writing. I’m constantly overlooking my memorable achievements.
(What few memorable achievements I have as an unpublished, unconnected writer.)
I overwrite everything.
For a long time, this has been my way in every form of writing that I do, from emails to work memos, from “short” stories to “short” novels.
I’ve known for some time that I need to get my social media shit together.
Like many people, I’m sure, I have a love-hate relationship with social media.
Not that those who read my blog don’t get a sample of my writing every week.
And not just a small sample either. I’m hardly one to skimp on either my words or the ideas conveyed with them.
No one has ever accused my writing style of being “spare”. In university, I played the usual word-processor tricks with font size and margins, but in my case it was because my reports were always too long, not too short.
There’s no accounting for tastes.
Over the five years that I’ve been blogging, I’ve written a number of what I consider important posts – posts that would make excellent candidates for my most popular post ever.
As far as months go, I can’t say I care much for February.
This isn’t for the reason most might expect. It’s not the weather. For most of Canada, February is dark, cheerless, and frigid – the furthest thing from the festive winter wonderland of a couple months prior.
I experienced 30 straight years of that. But now, living on the west coast in Vancouver, February days are noticeably longer, the temperatures rest well above zero (some winters, it never even goes below freezing), and although it rains for days and weeks on end, at least you don’t have to shovel.
It’s that time of year again.
Summer is the best season there is. This may be my personal opinion on the matter, but I do believe there’s some degree of universal truth to it as well: the weather is warm, the days are long, people are friendlier and happier, and the clothing is less encumbering.
I’ve now missed my writing birthday for two years in a row.
I don’t even know if a writing birthday is something other writers commonly observe, or if it’s my own unique brand of writerly madness.
Even the exact date of my writing birthday is uncertain. I mark it from the day I commenced my first (incomplete, shelved) novel, which was sometime in early February, 2002.