Why is it every time I get the coherence gathered to write one piece, I get the urge to write a bunch of other things too?
Currently: the undefined nonfiction reflection something-or-another about dragons/fantasy/writing/young adult fiction/reading, an explanation of what draws me to a career in medicine (mixed in with a chronicle of my thoughts and internal debate while applying to medical school), a fiction short story that will either stand on its own or serve as the opening to a new novel, another blog post on NaNoWriMo (plus its aftermath), an essay about interdisciplinary study vs. specialization and how striking a balance can give an excuse to be mediocre.
It could be worse. I could actually be writing that story about dragons, and then you’d have to read it. (But let’s be real, the story about dragons would be way less pretentious than any of the above.)