Ladies and Gentlemen, I just remembered that I have a blog. What reminded me? A notification telling me that my domain name was about to expire.

I felt a bit of a pang when I received that notification; this blog was going to be a big project for me, at one point. I get so excited about my ideas, but then it only takes a few months for me to just let them die like roadkill. But my ideas are not roadkill, I tell you! They are furry and adorable creatures of the forest, and they don’t deserve to die in the middle of the freeway! In other words, this is a problem I need to fix ASAP.

I’ve been reading a lot of books and articles about fulfilling potential. I’ve seen people from my Masters program get agents and publishers, and felt simultaneously happy for them and bitterly jealous. It’s an ugly emotion but I’m only human. And then I’ve thought about all these famous names from history, and how so many of them achieved great things before even reaching the age of thirty. And I say to myself: Damn. One more year.

Of course, there are a million excuses to be made. I don’t have enough time to focus on the projects I want to focus on, my chances of actually succeeding are too small to be worth it, what if I’m no good at writing after all, and people have just been humoring me? Obviously, this mindset isn’t helping. Insecurity is a drug, and unlike heroine or crack, it’s free and endlessly available. But I have to kick this addiction, or I’ll never achieve anything.

In three days, it will be November. Also known as National Novel Writing Month. I attempted it once several years ago, but gave up because I didn’t have time. And I was a barista back then… not an ESL teacher and freelancer. My time free time is much more limited now, but so is my sense of urgency. I must make time for it.

I haven’t decided if I should start a new project or finally just finish this damn novel. Logically, it would seem to an outsider that finishing the novel I’ve already started would be an easier feat… But an outsider might not understand the soul-crushing gravity of my writer’s block. Still, I know the only way to vanquish it is to put my fingers on the damn keyboard and bang out an ending, whether it’s good or not. It’s only a first draft, after all. Once I have some semblance of an ending, reworking it will be easier. At least I think so. So that’s what I’m going to do.

I have three days to prepare. I’m going to start right now, before I run out of steam. I’m going to go through my notes, re-read the last chapters I wrote, maybe sketch out another quick outline (for the thousanth time), and set myself some sort of schedule.

Wish me luck, wish me inspiration, and above all, wish me motivation.