A postscript to my first entry. I lament about my process, not the writing. I think, like some new writers, the urge to edit while writing is super strong. Spreading out the story uncritically is a near impossibility. The advice is to not look back -- ARE YOU KIDDING?
So, to take a lesson from therapy (not that I'm in it now), compartmentalize. That's what I'll do. I am to sit the entire month of November and just write. NOT edit. Editing is the no voice inside. The voice that says, "Hey, what the hell are you doing? Have you totally lost your mind? That reads like sh*t."
Writing is yes. Glitter lotion slathered all over. Pour out an entire jar of honey and let it drip. Everywhere. It's like going to the grocery story with a full bank account after a fast.
The question is: Am I hungry?