NOW THAT YOU know how fiction and I met (officially) and how we’ve been faring lately, I want to elaborate on my purpose for creating this blog before I dive into regular Friday posting. Sure, it’s true that for most creatives an online presence is near necessary for any sort of personal or financial success, and that’s part of it. I want a small corner of the internet to display my own work for potential publishers, to celebrate my successes when (confidence!) they come around. But, in the vein of taking writing seriously, I also want to hold myself accountable, and there’s no better way to keep yourself true to your word than splashing it across the World-Wide-Web for all of your acquaintances and their grandmothers to see.
As I mentioned in my first post, I set ambitious goals for myself this year, and mostly I’ve failed each month. Tack on weekly blog postings and I’m sure I’ll eventually deem the work load unsustainable and cut some of the fat. But I’ve let my writing muscle atrophy for too long and it’s time to push it a bit to build some real writing strength. But this blog is not just a workout partner; it is also a full-length, florescent-lit mirror, a reflection to prod and scrutinize and, with any luck, improve. Who knows if I’ll like what I see at the end of this program, if my writing is up to the standard I aim to achieve, but at least it will give me some metric of progress.
And speaking of progress, at the moment, freshly twenty-five, I stand roughly halfway to finishing a final, presentable draft of my novel, Imperfect One, and I have a mountain of work ahead of me (including tracking down beta readers and forcing them to read my book — want to be one? Stay tuned for an upcoming post!). Building a portfolio of published short stories, daily writing and editing, scoping agents, and, always, my reading challenge, it’s all very daunting when swallowed whole. Self-doubt has severely crept in, and not just regarding my ability to finish the darned thing, but whether any of this is at all worth it. I have no idea what lies ahead or if I’m wasting my time, because frankly, I tend not to believe I have anything valuable to offer either the writing world or the world in general.
But it’s piece by piece, post by post, word by word. At the end of it all, writing is stuck in me and I will do it forever, whether I publish fiction or doodle in my corner of the internet or write silly bedtime stories for my daughter. I do hope to gather an audience over this platform, even a small one, and not just to fulfill a narcissistic longing for a listening ear (though I must beat that into submission now and then), but because I hope with all this writing to find something valuable to offer, something helpful to say. If writing is training in wisdom and a search for truth, I want to become one of those wise people who finds it, and I want people around to share it with too.
NOW TELL ME // Do you have an accountability partner? Who or what encourages you to write when it feels hopeless? Comment below!