I was talking to my mom tonight about my writing, or lack thereof. "Look at the great writers - they're all depressed alcoholics," I said. It can be difficult to write when you are content. My mom still mildly nagged and reminded me that I'm in New York City, the home of most major publishers, and I'm not really trying to sell my writing. Mind you, I would need time to write a book I'd even consider trying to send out, but I could at least submit an article or five.

I'm very big on New Year's resolutions, so one of them for 2006 needs to be to really try and get my writing out there. I know I will be ignored and rejected before anything great possibly happens, but I need to do this. There are far worse writers making money for something I do better for free. That doesn't make sense. Since I've moved to NYC, I've sent three pieces of writing out. One was a short children's book. The others were personal narratives for a collection. I need to actually start writing new stuff for new places. I need a writer's market book and a Writer's Digest pronto!

P.S. I've decided that I will be blogging GOOD STUFF every day until I head back to Texas, in order to get the good writing vibes going.