100 Page Goal or Bust and My Poem Is Being Digi-Published

Do you have your weekend writing goals all lined up? I do!  I have to birth 100 pages of my down draft The Harvest novel, as in I have to get the draft down, as Lamott suggests.  I hope to have the draft done by the end of this month.  Yes, in eight days.

(Shut up!  It's going to happen, you naysayer on the right!)

I mean, I've been writing this novel since I was an undergrad and revised or restarted it a number of times, so it's at least 10 years old in the making, ahem.  This time, it's flowing in first-person limited point of view with a gender shift.  I still kept a lot of the original story, but it has since, like the last 100 pages or more, done it's own thing.  The characters decided to get cyber-modified; it wasn't enough that the women in the book were being geneticized to be cat-like.  No, that wasn't sufficient to guarantee this fucked up matriarchy.  Yes, all systems of power where others are exploited and oppressed are fucked up.  So it flows.

On a random, but really exciting note, La Bloga where I have been wanting to submit work is publishing "Lo Tierno"!  Woo hoo!  In fact, this morning I woke up with this poem spinning from my throat and out of my mouth.  It woudn't let me sleep at 2a.m. Of course, this other bit of great news distracted me, and I still have to write the poem.  It's still there, up there, most of it.  I want to write a poem about speaking together towards revolution in a flow state.  The concept is very cool in my head.  It's an image poem.

Well, I have Union grievances to tend to, and I clearly woke up too early.  That means I will have to be hyper-vigilant of typos all day and the stupid shit that comes out of my mouth when I'm tired. 

The kids should be very entertained and my husband confused. 

Let inspiration take over, whatever hurricane that is for you, and write that shit down before you forget it.  #Flow,JustFlow