I want to write about the last six months, tell everyone what’s been going on and maybe provide some insight regarding my writing. But I’m not going to do that now. Maybe not ever.
There are two main reasons for this (and lots of other reasons that don’t merit a mention here): 1. It would not be productive for me to sit here and write about things that I can’t change, and 2. Most of it is really boring. Mostly that first reason, though.
Forward is where I’m going. I’m setting my sights there: the time-not-yet. With that comes the usual host of questions, which are predictable, if not worn-out by now, and yet entirely necessary.
What do I want to accomplish? What can I do with everything I’ve learned so far? Where is there room to improve? (Spoiler Alert: There’s room to improve everywhere.) How can I write more? What the fuck am I doing?
You know, questions.
All of these questions have answers.
I didn’t say I have them. Not yet, anyway. Part of me moving forward involves getting better at living my life without always trying to find the answers to every question. That’s a symptom of something that’s been dragging me down for a long time. A mix of perfectionism and paranoia. I’ve always felt that drive to get it exactly right, like when I would obsess over a single blog post and take three hours to write it and then re-write it, which usually brought along its friend that pulls up a chair to say, “Hey, what if you didn’t get it right, even though you just spent three hours getting it right?”
I need a willingness to write, talk, create, and share, without being burdened by my own anxieties and neuroses. Sometimes it’s acceptable to do something, look at it for a minute, nod, and be done with the damned thing. Now, let’s be real, that’s never going to work for my fiction writing. I’m always going to have that mindset when it comes to my stories.
This blog doesn’t need to be like that. If I ever want to have a chance at reaching a wider audience and sharing my stories with more people, I need to worry about putting more of my words here. There’s no need to sacrifice quality for quantity–I don’t intend to start constantly posting on here just for the sake of being one more self-important ass shouting at the world–but there is a need to find balance. Maybe I won’t be able to keep to a schedule all of the time…but something tells me I might if I didn’t always give the keys to my inner censor.
I’m getting the feeling that this particular post has almost reached its capacity for worthwhile reading. (Or maybe that was hundreds of words ago, eh?) The essence of what I want to tell you is this: I know I’ve gone off the map, like I always do, but instead of lamenting the fact and dragging you through a redacted version of all-the-reasons-why, I’m pushing forward and attempting to do what I should have been doing all along. Just write.