Trying to write (one of) my book(s)––contain your excitement, people––and struggling to focus my words. At first, blogging was hard because I had to think of my own topics and create my own constructs but now that I am attempting to hone my thinking, I can't do it. The grass is always greener, am I right?
Ugh, I don't know how my predecessors did it. My book will be very Chelsea Handler's My Horizontal Life meets Jane Eyre. Try to guess which book I am referencing to allude to my writing style and which book I am mentioning to foreshadow the laughably-unfortunate plot that is my life. Hint: there is no horizontal in my book. It's very Bridget Jones' Diary (the movie more than the book) minus the obesity, smoking and accents.
Anyhoo, I don't know how Chelsea Handler and Tina Fey wrote their memoirs. Do you think they were writing at their vanity, alternately typing and staring at themselves in the mirror? Do you think they listened to the Alanis Morissette Pandora station, too? They wrote on Friday nights in the prime of their youth too, right? Right?