thinking about nanowrimo this year. i never finished it last year, because in mid-november i found a spot for my photo exhibit in january, and i dropped the keyboard for the exhibit preparation. i had found, thought, that writing in english somehow freed me. and freeing i need: i get so upset by just the idea of writing fiction... bad memories, i guess. two books out there and you realize that once you let them go, they are simply out there, and good people and bad people alike will have a stab at you. not even talking about the critics - doing their job - but about people who were supposed to be there for me, about bad publishing experiences, and some bad media stuff, but cause dmostly by my innocence at the time. still, i'm like a trauma victim sometimes when it comes to writing. and what i'm hoping to achieve this year is a free form novel type thing, without my own censorship. i want to let it flow and not criticize myself, i want no rereading with a red pen. it doesn't matter if it's good or perfect, all that matters is that i do it. there. i think i'm ready.