So, Thanks, I Guess (Anne)

29 days ago, a friend pressured me into trying National Novel Writing Month. Technically, I don't fit in their parameters, because most of the writers focus on works of fiction, and I can't imagine anything more ridiculous than my own life.

So I wrote a memoir.

50,000 words of a memoir. Most of which I will likely hack to pieces before sending it out to publishers in anticipation of many rejection letters.

(Sidebar: I think all of the dating rejection has completely prepared me for a life as a writer. How can rejection by a stranger be worse than rejection by someone I love? But I digress.)

The most recent boy to bail on me told me that what attracted me to him the most was my writing. He looooooooved reading my writing. He encouraged me to write a book, too, but I was too wrapped up in him and other summer pursuits to really take it seriously.

So when my friend challenged me to write an entire book in November, it was simply germination for a seed that had already been planted.

So to this boy who bailed on me exactly four months ago this week: thanks. Thanks for believing in me enough to encourage me to write a book. I never would have seriously considered it, had you not repeatedly told me you thought a book of mine would be great.

Oh, and thanks for being a chapter.