I enjoy reading other people's blogs. I like that little glimpse into someone else's life, and if they happen to be a fellow writer, so much the better.
This being a holiday, I treated myself to some serious blog reading, starting with my favorites and then checking out some interesting links. Interesting, because they all linked to other writer blog sites. And although these blogs, too, offered a glimpse into a life not my own, there was always the writing.
I've had two blogs previous to this one where the intention was to share the ups and downs of the journey I'm undertaking to become a writer. Despite my best efforts, both shared more of my middle-aged angst than my writing struggles.
I've been writing for 30 years now. I have a handful of short stories I've never tried to get published. I also have two novels that need editing before they're finished, and two more about half done. I have files full of ideas. I have notebooks full of ideas. If I wrote steadily from now until the end of this millenia I would not run out of ideas.
So what’s my problem? Seriously, I don’t know. It’s like stage fright, where no matter how talented you are you just can’t bring yourself to get up on that stage. It takes you too far out of your comfort zone. What good is talent if no one sees you perform? What good is a writer if no one ever sees what you’ve written?
Time to fish or cut bait. No more anonymous blogs where it doesn’t matter whether I keep my promise to write X number of words, or Y number of pages. No more hiding in my office playing spider solitaire. I keep thinking of myself as a writer and it’s time I proved it. It’s September First, the perfect day for me to turn over a new leaf. To step out of my comfort zone.