1. I talk to imaginary characters in my head.
2. I create scenarios as to how my imaginary characters would kick other imaginary character’s asses.
3. I can’t go on a hike in the woods without imagining what it would be like to do it equipped with a sword.
4. I can’t walk on the beach without imagining the ocean is filled with pirate ships commanded by the undead.
5. I read less for enjoyment than I do to search for good metaphors and images to steal.
6. I eavesdrop, but not because I actually care what people have to say. I’m looking for dialogue.
7. I write down things like “Why is his arm angry?”, “What kind of guns do the trolls use?” and “Do the ice women want to kill him or have sex with him…or both”? on little stickies. I often forget what they’re for.
8. The notion of writing a novel doesn’t intimidate me in the least. The notion of editing a novel fills me angst, pain, and a desire to start smoking again.
9. Every day, I am filled with bitter hate and rage until I get at least 1,000 words written. After that, I’m mostly tolerable.
10. Caffeine is my crack. Without it, I zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
11. I enjoy movie trailers and reading ad copy for novels more than I enjoy watching movies or reading novels.
12. My mind never stops going. It’s always building worlds, laying plots, thinking of ways to have battles on the bellies of dragons that are dangling from the side of a cliff or trying to decide how hard it would be to survive a voyage through a shadow-filled wastelands. I do this even when I’m in the shower, even when I’m working on spreadsheets at work, and even when I’m playing basketball.
13. Because everyday, I write. It’s what I am, it’s who I am, and it’s what I’ve always wanted to be.
This post inspired by (and is an entry into) Jeff’s contest. You should enter, too. But you better hurry up, because the deadline is tomorrow!