What in the world am I doing now?

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Okay, here it goes. I want to be a writer, like, a real one with books and stuff. I have this condition, you see, one that projects things into my brain that aren’t real, people’s conversations that have never happened, places that do not exist, creatures that will never be and then backs it up with the overwhelming urge to tell everyone else about it.

Many times this can be cured with medications.

I don’t have the luxury of that, and even if I did, the fact is that I just enjoy the process too damn much to want to change it. I get really truly ridiculously happy when I’m expressing these imaginary fixations. I jump in my seat like a ADHD off thier meds. I lose track of time becoming so engrossed in my fictional relationships.

I want you that happy and fixated. I want to share my writing with you.

So this is where I am. At a stage in my life where I feel confident (mostly…maybe) that these ideas that toss around my head might actually be fairly decent. Decent enough to tell other people about and not worry about medication suggestions.

I am not published (except on Scribd which is more like free vanity advertising). I have very few things completed. But I’d like to.

Today is the beginning of sharing not only my personal completed writing but also the journey of story writing, things I see along the way, issues I have, resources that have helped (or not), and hopefully, seeing a project through to completion. It might not be good, in fact it might be just absolutely terrible, but something inside me won’t let this go. I hope you’ll stick around.

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4 responses »

  1. You’re very brave, to share your writings with the world. I fancied myself a writer when I was much younger, submitting poems to local contests and the like. All it took was one contest win that entailed me having to read my poem in front of others, and I was done with sharing! I’m far too nervous a person for that sort of thing. Given what I’ve seen of your writing talents so far, I know you’ll do well!

    • I think that is one thing that appeals to most artists – the anonymity of putting pen to paper. It was excruciating to put those two documents up on Scribd for others to read. I worried and fretted and finally just pushed the damn upload button. They’ve been on there for seven months or so and about a hundred people a month have read them. Nothing happened, I didn’t explode.

      But that is about as public as I want to get (at least right now). I had toyed with a pen name, something to keep my anonymity and also to protect me from my family. I have a hard enough time with rejection from strangers, I dont think I could handle it from family. But I can’t think up anything that doesn’t sound like a porn star’s name or a croggity old man.

      I think I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I’m going to focus on actually writing and see where it takes me. I have no problems with ditching fame (and publicity) for a nice little cult following.

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