Why I Don't Like Writing
I swear I don't like to write. I tell that to anyone who
will listen, all the time. I'm like John Grisham, who once said, "I love
everything about writing except writing." At least I think he said that,
feel free to look it up and correct me. Putting pen to paper, or the digital
equivalent, has always been a gut wrenching experience for me. Some days I'm
too critical, other days I'm too dumb, and still others I can't feel the tense,
subject-verb agreement, or find the Shift key. But for a couple of reasons, I
keep pecking away.
Reason one. I love to read what I write. Unlike many
authors, I'll re-read my writing and, corrections aside, thoroughly enjoy it.
That comes from only writing the stories that I would want to read, and I
strongly recommend you do the same.
Reason two. Days like today. Days when the force, the song,
the trace of the beam, Kvasir, the Holy Spirit, or whatever, is so strong, that
I feel it thrumming in my soul. Not being heavy, not being artsy, just
relating a fact. This morning I finished "Elevator," one of three
pieces of fiction (two short stories and a novela) I'll put on Amazon in
August. The story so resonates that I had to leave the computer. I couldn't
stop rereading it. That, my friends, is damn fun.
The morale of this blog? I'm not sure there is one. I should
be spending this time touting my new novel, Desert Moon, but I can't stop
thinking about a man, a woman, and an elevator. I'm I touting that story? No.
I'm touting doing what you were put on Earth to do. Go resonate.
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