I am doing a terrible, terrible thing. The terrible thing is that I dug my hard drive out and connected it to my laptop, found my old writing folders, and then I read everything. It’s actually not that terrible but it is a breath-holding activity.
I forgot entirely about humidity and lightning, which are two things that seem to be going on in the land of Michigan today. I spent the last year so wrapped, snuggled, coddled in grass that I forgot the world had it out for me in other ways than just allergies. You could fool me into believing that I moved to Florida.
I did not move to Florida but I found a list, an exhausting list, while doing that terrible thing called The Writer Reads Their Old Work and Cries and Laughs. The funny thing about the list is that it made me feel sort of refreshed by the end. The last point on the list was this: All the writers love to ask the other writers what to do when they are too exhausted to write. This is exhausting to answer, but the answer is lists.
Thanks old Jo, little 22 year old Jo. Here is the full list: