The Book Of Impossible Focus.

I need to write something.

I have been an aspiring writer since I was...geez, I don't even know when. Three? I'd run the length of the house, making up stories about my "invisible friends." I remember stealing characters from Aladdin (Jafar was my favorite). I also dictated the saga of the Titanic to my mother and then drew the pictures of the ship in its various stages of destruction. (I'm sure it was based heavily on the movie...can't remember if anything about the drawing scene was mentioned. Oh, that would've been horrendous. I still can't draw.) Then, from about fifth grade to eighth, I started an absolutely terrible miniseries called Through A Teacher's Eyes. It was about these young and pretty elementary school teachers who spent a great deal of their time in the teacher's lounge, occasionally having a realization that one of their students was their child from a failed marriage (the computer teacher), having memorials to commemorate the sinking of the--what else?--Titanic, showing old episodes of M*A*S*H to their class (the first grade teacher...I must ask: WTF?!?), and doing all of this other fun stuff.

If I ever find any of the aforementioned crap, it's bonfire fodder. (Except the book about the Titanic.)

Long story short, all of this bad writing and poor plot planning has made me what I am today. I got done with the horribleness early. Now I can focus on crisper dialogue, fine-tuned description, finding my "voice."

(On another note, my mother is watching some crime show on mute so she can read the close captioning. Hearing problems she has not.)

So. I need to seriously dedicate myself to writing something. I don't know what. All the plots are based too much on my own life. I've got some little scenes that I wrote out in the back of my history class this year...you could call them wish fullfillment, I guess--the future I want to have. But I found them a couple days ago, and they're not that bad. The only problem is that I had to limit them to a page in length so it looked like I was taking notes (very detailed notes on two pages, mind you), so they end abruptly.

I just keep fast-forwarding to the design of the book jacket and whatnot.

Okay. The end.