I was going to take the day off, really, but then I came across an answer I wrote to a writing exercise. We had to pick a metaphor to describe what our 2013 year of writing was like. This is what I had to say:
My writing year was like a freight train.
My writing year was like a freight train. Heavy with a long, long train of baggage, yet moving fast. Unstoppable. No matter what obstacles came across the track, I ploughed through them. No time for bullshit or bitches. Drama-llamas smeared across my grill, eyes wide with the revelation that I stop for no one when my dream is on the line. I got a schedule, and your whining and excuses are not important.
Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.
Sometimes, it went too fast for me, but there was no stopping it. I just had to hang on. No time to watch the scenery blur past except for one stop to refuel at the station of August.
Gods, I needed that.
When I came back from KG, I found the balls to take on yet more cargo. Every deadline met with clockwork-precision. Every hand on board needed to make this machine move. The conductor waits for no one and yes I did leave behind those who slacked off at their posts. If you want to be the boss, you’ve got to act like one.
I came to the end of the line, all wheels screaming and sparking and now I’m fucking HERE, but don’t you dare think I’m staying for good. Once I’m offloaded, I’m gonna get my ass turned back around and go back for more. Oil my joints, fuel me up, and get those cargo cars queued up nice.
I’m ready, 2014. Destination: Sequel. Let’s fuckin’ go.
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