Inspired by a prompt at Today’s Author, I have decided to turn over a new leaf and try actually writing this year instead of procrastinating. In spite of that choice, I present 10 things I will not be writing this year:
1. I will not start a faux reality blog about former child stars raising ostriches, llamas, and platypuses in order to curry the reading audience’s favor (and votes) so as to gain a recording contract, a movie deal, and a year’s supply of Rice-a-Roni.
2. I will not try my hand at creating a new fictional genre that combines all the charms of spaghetti westerns, cyberpunk, Gregorian chant, and space opera with the fascinating rhythms of dub-step.
3. I will avoid at all cost spending my days creating odes to the toenails on my girlcat’s rear left paw, no matter how cutely she scratches me with them.
4. I won’t make it a priority to come up with 101 new ways to use pine nuts, sea salt, and coffee grounds just so that I can have the most novelly titled cook book on the internet: Pining for Arabian Seas: 101 Recipes Using Pine Nuts, Sea Salt, and Coffee Grounds.
5. I will resist the urge to create How-To manuals for watching paint dry, herding cats or watching pots boil, not matter how extensive my expertise on the subjects may be.
6. I will not write pro-Martian propaganda, write puff piece interviews of non-terrestrial beings, or answer fan mail on behalf of my alien overlords even if it means a neural whipping, a loss of space cantina privileges, or defenestration via airlock (viva la resistance!).
7. I won’t spend any time at all creating a choose your own adventure novel about the advent of stereoscopic vision in predatory animals or the founding of a new planet by spacefaring slugs, snails, and other soft bodied invertebrates.
8. I won’t even consider publishing an underground leaflet of instant soup recipes and other material subversive to our all powerful alien overlords.
9. I will not develop the technology to write poetry on banana skins without them going brown before anyone can read them just so I can publish my sonnet Banana, Banana, Whose Got the Banana? in the format for which it was originally intended.
10. I will find a way to steer clear of marking down the long awaited songbook for my extemporaneous musical, Why Don’t You Just Go to Flipping Sleep Already?, which was performed in its entirety only once before a less than enthusiastic audience during my oldest child’s infancy.