HELLO EVERYONE! Happy Sunday. Sunday-funday as they* (*I) say, and I can confirm its reputation by currently being in bed, watching Robert Downey Jr. in “Sherlock” and enjoying the McDonalds coffee I began drinking three hours ago. THIS IS WHAT SUNDAYS ARE FOR. You can take your “productive” Sundays, and you can … meet up with me around 6, when I have to get some work done.
But for the next seven-ish glorious hours, AREN’T WE IN FOR A TREAT.
Anyway. I called you here today for a purpose. The purpose being that I have a goal. A goal to write a book. A book of true stories (in the spirit of “Goosebumps”) (just kidding — but my GOD, wouldn’t that be amazing), essays, etc. that I would self-publish (unless a publisher is reading this and in that case, HELLO), for the sole purpose of:
1) Writing a book (a goal of mine since I was about five)
2) Writing **~*FoR mE*~**
"But Anne!" you might say. "You’re an idiot! Why would you tell us before you actually did it?"
That’s a very great question, friends, and it has an equally great (#LOL) answer:
Because without being under duress, I won’t do it.
I won’t. I’ve been trying to do this FOR YEARS. I actually pitched it to a publisher a few months back, but that was pre-October revelation, and my mind is far from where it used to be, THANK GOD. (Like, Balki from “Perfect Strangers” is literally doing a dance of joy over me NOT having written a book before October, THAT’S happy we should be I did not write a book then.)
So this is a fresh start. It’s a chance to fulfill a goal that means a lot to me, but I know I need the obligation of having promised everyone I was going to do something to do it because the only thing I hate more than, say, a lot of things, is flakes. FLAKES ARE MY NEMESIS. Empty promise-keepers are the worse than the inside of a Tauntaun. They all need to leave. (Yes, you, empty promise-keeper. Please go.)
So, yes, I have always wanted to do this, but I will now that I’ve told you guys about it. And while I absolutely do not expect anyone to check up on me, know that if I do not fulfill my destiny (IMAGINE I said that and meant it), you have every right to flood my “Ask” box with “So I thought you were writing a book, huh?” and force me to face something I am even more afraid of than the actual writing: explaining why I didn’t write it.
Because I will tell you this: odds are the reason would be either laziness or straight up fear.
So here is my motto:
"I’m not afraid anymore!" - Kevin McAllister
Yes, it needs work. But now you’re in on the goal, and we’re all in this together, and at the very worst case — I write something HORRIBLE, and it is the WORST, and one person downloads it and it’s me — at least I will have written it.
Because GOD DAMN IT, it’s a new year (still, kind of). It’s time to achieve some motherfucking life goals.
- iamcaseyrae likes this
- melwheelz likes this
- ahaphany likes this
- livingthemontage likes this
- thatsashajames likes this
- plan-l likes this
- thatdrugyaz likes this
- amandabrookeperrin likes this
- sassypantsareuseless likes this
- jus-ideas likes this
- welcometoladyville likes this
- franknbeats likes this
- zineagekicks likes this
- denimcollar likes this
- erinmallorylong said: I LOVE YOU. And, duh, who can do anything without being under duress?
- erinmallorylong likes this
- shits-giggles likes this
- scrapsofthought likes this
- newromanticc likes this
- annetdonahue posted this