I have dreams. I expect you have dreams too. I don’t mean the variety when you sleep, I mean ideas of how your life will be. Of what you’ll do and who you’ll be. That kind of dream. You might even have ideas of how to get there.

Me, I’m a writer in my dreams. I get to wear fantastic vintage cocktail dresses every day, simply because I can and I have no reason not to. Which also means that I have enough money to have such a fantabulous wardrobe. I can structure my time as I like, because I’m a writer so I work from home, and as long as I do my writing, it doesn’t matter when before the deadline I do it.

So, this month, I signed up to NaNoWriMo. Because I have lots of stories planned and thought about, and several I’ve begun writing, but none which I’ve finished. So my challenge is to actually finish a proper novel.

And then, this morning, I found out about NaBloPoMo. And since I’ve been neglecting this a little of late, almost but not quite giving up on my Not-So-New-Year’s-Resolution, I’m thinking I’ll give this a go too, even if I’ve already missed one day of the challenge. Although, obviously, NaNoWriMo will take priority. Sorry.

So it’s official. I’m crazy. I have a 50,000 word novel to complete, plus I must now blog every day, if it’s possible. On top of working part-time. No sweat. I can knock out three essays in a weekend. Glutton for punishment, me. Or I’m just an over-dreamer. I think I’m better at dreaming than making my dreams a reality. Let’s find out how dangerous these Grand Ideas for writing really are.