Yeah, that’s today, no need to check your phone. It doesn’t feel like that at all to me, though. It feels like ‘Huh?’ to me. The whole date: ‘Huh? Wait, what day is it? Ah! Damn.’.
So, yeah. Hey, thanks for showing up when there was nothing here to see except the same old stuff. I’m on here this week just letting you know that I’m still alive and still dedicated to this blog. Especially since my subscription to WordPress already renewed itself. And, because, really, what did I spend all that money on business cards for?
It’s tough writing a novel.
It’s even tougher writing a novel while you have a full-time job.
And it’s tougher still to have a weekly blog about…THIS, whatever THIS is.
And what is this? Dunno. But it’s fun somehow.
I don’t write articles about how to write because I don’t have that much cred; and even if I acted like I had enough cred (99.9% of the stuff you read anywhere is from people acting like they have cred), I don’t want to fall into that niche where I become the teacher and you the student. (You want my advice on writing? Make sure you don’t clean your oven with a bleach-based cleaner while wearing a nice shirt. It’s completely irrelevant, but then, so is every other piece of advice from an ‘expert’. Writing is a personal journey, and you find your own way on your own. What worked for them might not work for you. Just know that you’re not alone and what you’re going through has not been the first time someone is going through something like that. But seriously, next time you’ll know not to wear a nice shirt.)
I don’t want to just publish random things I’m working on because, see, I’m still working on them (see: crappy first and second drafts).
I don’t want to write about everyday things because I’m not that interesting nor is my life that interesting even if I wasn’t.
And I definitely don’t want to NOT do THIS, this blog thing. Yes, I need to keep an internet presence, as my fictitious agent will one day remind me, but it’s something more than that.
This has become a place where I can truly be free–free from expectations, free from rules, free from labels, and free from perfection. I mean, I’d rather sing karaoke in an empty dive bar than a packed one. In other words, when there’s no one paying attention to you, you’ll try anything on stage once. Why are some of the best first albums or movies or books the best those artists have made? It’s because they make them without anyone watching. This is why most artists are afraid of success than failure.
That’s not to say I’m not free in my novel Work; it’s a different type of freedom. In my Work with a capital W, pouring my energy and soul into it, I can be too tightly wound, too delicate, too much perfect. I’m sure this will change once I knock out a couple more books (and I especially if none of these books get published or earn any money). But until then, I am working on literally the greatest thing I have ever worked on ever in my entire life. I have dedicated nearly two decades to this Work, with all the blood, sweat, tears, pain, and lost time and energy that goes with it.
Here, with you, I can be anyone. You don’t know me yet. You don’t know what I can or cannot do. You don’t know how scared I am of losing what little freedom I have in my Work. You don’t know if I’m a bad writer just faking it or a good writer winging it or a great writer playing coy. I can put anything on here, and, if you like what you’ve read so far, you’ll take it with a grain of salt. If not, you can leave.
I’ll still be here.
Because for me, it’s about keeping this place open until it becomes relevant. What do I mean by that? Here:
the problem is this–the cart is before the horse. If I was already published with a fan base, I would have several options for this blog’s direction. I could write about my methods, what it feels like to publish; I’d be able to give you tips on how I became published, tools of the trade and tips from the stars kind of stuff. And, if I was successful and even a little famous, I could write ANYTHING in this blog and it would be gobbled up by my fans–diary entries (Hi Gaiman), hourly reports about my dog (Hi King), etc.
The problem is this–no one wants to read a blog about a man named Stephen King writing a horror book involving a young girl’s menstrual and psychokinetic problems if he already hasn’t had a successful career making books about cars coming alive, killer clowns, and a young girl’s menstrual and psychokinetic problems, ya dig? What would he write about? The process? His thoughts? His poems? Drafts about a story where a man is in jail for thirty years? The point is I’m biding my time.
(Not that I’m comparing myself to Mr. King. I’m way under him in every aspect, which makes my case even that much sadder ha!)
Here I am, as free as I wanna be. Like a DJ speaking into the silent void a la Christian Slater in ‘Pump up the Volume’, I report to you what I think and feel while just trying to get my head on straight through all of this.
So, anyway, just wanted to let you know I was alive and that starting next week, I will be back with new articles and things and scribblings and bibblings.