So I decided, after the off and on (mostly off) progress of 2009, for 2010 I would attempt to write a short story a month. The point being to force myself to write no matter how horrible it turned out. So far my attempts include a rather ridiculous one about soul mates (platonic mind you) and a rather irritable romance writer. Both are rather light and silly, neither of them are great exercises in skill or emotion. They're fluff.
I like fluff. I don't think it gets enough credit.
But it is (relatively) easy to write fluff. And one aspect of this project is that it has brought to mind a couple stories that I originally put aside because I was fairly certain I did not have the skill to write them. I've thought about them every now and again but for the most part, they've remained nice and biddable in the back of my mind.
Apparently they have both decided that now is a good time to perk up and start making noise again. The problem is, I'm still fairly certain I don't have the skill to write them. And it's not like I don't have plenty to do. I'm still working on my novel. SWS (Sylvanopolis Writers' Society) is branching out and gearing up for the second volume of Leafkin, not to mention a reprint of the first volume.
I don't want to make a serious attempt at a short story. Fluff suits me right now.
Really I'm just complaining.