I dropped my writing class today. I realized that I wasn't excited about it at all, for several reasons. The first and most important was that I didn't like the vibe of the first discussion--it reminded me a little of SLE, in which some of the people were so pretentious that it turned me off of reading good books for a v. long time. I didn't want to have the same experience with a writing class, and so I thought I should save myself. Second, and just as important, if I'm taking a class, I don't really have time to prep for the class and work on my romance novel as well--and I really think that I should focus on finishing the novel, rather than having several projects and stories and exercises going all at once. Third, my responsibilities at work are increasing dramatically, which means that finding time to do everything I want to do is going to be difficult.
So, I decided to drop the class while I could still get a full refund, but not tell my coworkers that I dropped. This means that I can still leave at 5pm every Wednesday without exciting too much notice. Then, I will religiously use that time to work on my romance novel, and try to carve out at least one weekend afternoon for writing as well. Obviously, if I can write more often than that, I will, but work is going to be hellish for the next few months. However, I would like to finish my novel by summer so that I can try to sell it; I can't believe I started it two years ago. I'm rather ashamed that it's been sitting for so long, so I just need to finish it.
To follow through on my decision, I left work early even though I was swamped, came home and grabbed my personal laptop, and went to Starbucks, where I churned out ~800 words. Not bad for an hour and a half, but I hit a stumbling point, so I came home and read a bit of one of my favorite Georgette Heyer novels for inspiration. Now, I'm going to go to bed so that I can get up early, go to work, and hopefully knock off early enough to write some more tomorrow. Goodnight!
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