I love when I'm sitting on the subway reading a book as I was yesterday and the day before and last week, thinking about how talented the author of my book is and how I wish that I was able to write like that. In fact, then I begin to think about the storyline and how I could have thought up those characters and that plotline, if only I had had the chance. Hehehe. So jealous. I want to write a book. I want to be creative enough to think up my own characters and storylines and I want it to be compelling enough to get published and make me lots of money so that I can quit work and just be. But for now, when I think about writing a book, all I can imagine writing is my memoir, and I wonder how many people would hate me after I published that! Not that I have a lot of enemies or dirt to expose but it ain't all pretty and so out of respect to my family and friends I don't think I could ever publish an exact story of my life. Although I have thought about the possibility of writing something under an alias...what is it called when authors do that? They have some fancy phrase for it. And I don't think it would be a literal "memoir" so much as a playing out of my life in action...perhaps I could add a few fictional plots, but there again, I have the problem of the missing creativity...or maybe not missing altogether, but rather MIA (missing in action). Work drains all my energy. I lose the energy to even update my blog. So here it is, 6:45 in the morning and I am sipping coffee and writing my first blog entry in nearly five months (sorry and thank you to those of you who have asked me to update...I appreciate your continued readership and support).
Just watching CNN...apparently there was a shootout in some pizza parlor over night here in NYC. Don't worry Mom. I hardly ever go eat pizza in the middle of the night. Lactose intolerance.
Gotta get ready for work!!!
