Wait, we’re talking about beginnings this week?
Crap. I had a whole post planned out for ends. Well, rear ends. Male ones. The top 12 most spectacular rear ends on the planet (complete with photos).
In lieu of posting a dozen butt pictures, I decided to google this week’s blog phrase, “new beginnings.” It’s a surprisingly popular term that’s been claimed by a home for teen moms, a chiropractic clinic, an animal shelter, a church, a nutritional supplement, and I swear I’m not making this up, a blog devoted to enriching marriage through spanking.
I don’t think I want to write about any of those things.
OK, that’s a lie. I do kind of want to write about one of those things, but it’s probably not appropriate for this blog.
New beginnings are not my favorite aspect of writing. I say this having just typed “the end” on the third book in my contract and then having to halt my happy-dance in the middle of tossing my bra on the chandelier because I suddenly realized I have to start a new book
I hate that.
I know many writers love starting new books, but I’m not one of them. I’m much happier massaging an existing story until all its parts fall off.
But I’ve got to keep moving forward, starting fresh, building new bridges. Those are fancy ways of reminding myself there’s an option clause in my contract (which means my publisher gets first dibs on what I write next).
So I will begin again. Soon. Really.
Right after I look at those butt pictures one more time.
How do you feel about new beginnings? Or rear ends, really. Either subject is open for discussion.
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