Instead of using my New Year's resolution to flagellate myself (and yes, I still need to get organized, be happier, eat more vegetables and drive with more courtesy), I am going to keep it simple: write. Recently, for the first time in maybe 15 years, I rediscovered the joy of writing. Which is not to say I haven't written in 15 years — I (sort of) write for a living. But I hadn't plunged into a writing project this way. I wrote with the abandon and enthusiasm that I did when I was a kid banging out really bad novellas on an Apple IIc, being told by my mom to GO TO BED. I had fun. More of that in 2012.
Now that I have confessed, gentle readers, all 11 of you, whose support I need...pretend I merely made a resolution to exercise (which I did — exercising the creative muscle). In advance I will tell you:
No, I am not writing for any reason other than my own pleasure. No, it will not be published anywhere. No, it is not about you. No, you cannot read it.
Like you would an exercise program, help me with your enthusiasm for my efforts, with no expectation of evidence of my results?