750

I am writing a book. I don't know how many times I have said that, or tried to do it. For some reason, though, I am now willing to argue that I mean it this time.

I don't know how to write a book. I don't have the slightest idea. Does anyone? I haven't seen enough to have a book to write. Or, as a part of me really believes, I have seen enough to feel tired for it, and that is enough. People I know have seen death, and stopped deaths and lived how they wanted to despite the fact that it was impossible and stupid. Not me.

So here I am with a blog. A kind of bloated appendage that I don't know what to do with. If it spurs me to write though, it is useful, right? Why, then, should I not use it as a crutch (I am a coward after all) to keep me hobbling through this book? 750 words today... not good enough.