Author: Jackie Pick

Jackie Pick is a former teacher and current writer living in the Chicago area. She is a contributing author to multiple anthologies, including Multiples Illuminated, So Glad They Told Me: Women Get Real about Motherhood, Here in the Middle, as well as the and the literary magazines The Sun and Selfish. She received Honorable Mention from the Mark Twain House and Museum for her entry in the Royal Nonesuch Humor Writing Competition. Jackie is a contributing writer at Humor Outcasts, and her essays have been featured on various online sites including McSweeney's, Belladonna Comedy, Mamalode, The HerStories Project, and Scary Mommy. A graduate of the University of Chicago and Northwestern University, Jackie is co-creator and co-writer of the award-winning short film Fixed Up, and a proud member of the 2017 Chicago cast of Listen To Your Mother.

Puzzle. NaNoWriMo Day 10

Words Today: 1,947

Total Words: 24,775


 

Today was a day I couldn’t schedule around my writing, which I have been able to do to a certain extent for the rest of the month. Early meetings and late meetings today mean that the two prime no-children-at-home times to write were gone. I did not try to start anything new, rather, I drafted a piece that’s been on my mind about photography and today’s children (specifically my children) and continued some descriptions of my time in improvisational comedy. In that second piece, I’m trying to capture as many memories, brief or detailed, as possible, so that when there is a longer story or (dare I say?) novel, there will be truths in the fiction.

It’s starting to feel like the stories and the possible novels and the essays are all coming in pieces, and rather than my trying to do complete pictures, I feel as though each day I am taking a tiny paintbrush to a piece of a puzzle, painting it, and setting it aside to dry.

I’ll save the assembly for later, when the pieces are painted and the dog fuzz is vacuumed up off the floor.

Hey, there have to be some sacrifices this month…like housework. Ah, NaNoWriMo, you naughty naughty mistress.