I pride myself on my verbal rapier wit and bon mots voiced with a skill set comparable to the precision of how Venus and Serena Williams serve tennis balls. However, my written voice, while loquacious once its engine starts, will on occasion ride shotgun, take a backseat or sometimes even hide out in the trunk when it should at the ignition.
In spite of it all, , as wonderful regular followers of this blog know, I participate in various poetry and flash fiction challenges each week. Add to that I am a regular -I won’t lie and say weekly- participant in each Tuesday’s Slice of Life Writing Challenge. And because I simply glutton, I am also a part of #52Essays2017 where I submit –you guessed it- an essay each week. Clearly, I must be a closet masochist for personal writing.
Thus when I saw the email reminder earlier today that tomorrow is March 1st and Day 1 of the annual March Slice of Life Story Challenge, it gave me pause. 31 consecutive days of writing personal vignettes of my life, when I can barely remember to participate weekly. 2016 was my third year in a row participating, and my best year as I only missed posting three days, but I did miss three days. Can I do better this year? As I take into consideration, my considerably more than two cents, in all the other challenges I have a toe in, do I even want to go for it?
Oddly enough a classic Kenny Rogers song is what pops into my head as I ponder:
You’ve got to know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em…
Is it a sign that this song popped in my head and became an earworm? I mean, sometimes you have to know when to say ‘When”, before you wind up saying “Uncle!”, right?
…Know when to walk away
And know when to run
Oh Kenny, I hear you, but I will not heed your words of wisdom here. I really am a masochist for writing after all.
See you guys tomorrow…
Let’s see how others are slicing it up this fine Tuesday:
Slice of Life Writing Challenge|Two Writing Teachers
Looking forward to your posts over the next 31 days. This is my fourth year participating and each year I wonder why I subject myself to this. Yet, here I am again. We will conquer March.
Yes, we will.