Have I lost it completely?

Before you answer that, let me tell you what inspired the question. I'm thinking about NaNoWriMo, trying to do a little (a lot of) mental preparation for the month-long write-a-thon that is looming larger and larger, sounding like a freight train approaching, making me wonder What Was I Thinking? I can't start writing, but I can do character studies, outline, etc. In the meantime, I wrote part of - and abandoned - a short story about the daughter of my main character, set some years after the book I'm planning to work on during NaNoWriMo.

I was thinking about that character, Marie Bennett, and how exploring her life from her point of view - reminiscing with her, getting into her head, might be a good way to prepare myself for writing about her mother. It might also get me off my butt to finish that simple little story.

It has become evident to me, lately, that I like to blog. I like the interface, for starts (It's much more interesting than the blank page that faces me in my word processing program), and I like having a mental picture of the folks that might read what I have written. I have bloggy friends now. I look forward to reading your comments and to checking your blogs to see what you've been doing or thinking.

So.....I got inspired. I decided that Marie should have a blog of her own. There she could talk about herself, complain about her husband, remember her childhood - all the things that bloggers do all the time. So I channeled her, and she started her own blog. It's called Life After Death: An Orphan's Story - and why she chose such a morbid title for her blog is beyond me, but she did, and there you are. She put it on WordPress, because it could be marked Private. There are family pictures in there, and the family looks remarkably like some popular Hollywood types like Nicole Kidman, Liam Neeson, etc., which could be really embarrassing, were somebody to stumble on the blog. Marie has been blogging for a couple of days now, and nobody has commented yet, which is not surprising, given the Private label. I guess if Marie wants comments, I'll have to leave them myself. I can feel my personality shattering like a Corningware plate, shards flying off in all directions.