In the beginning, when I decided that I wanted to have a blog, my intentions were good. I had set my heart on posting at least once a week, but, as you probably know, I’ve failed at that attempt. My heart, though in the right place in wanting to do, can’t do much for keeping my promise to myself. As a writer, not paid but still always a writer, I feel a lot of guilt over not accomplishing my goal of writing on a daily basis. I just completed NaNoWriMo last month, which was also my first attempt at the 30-day challenge. I am glad to say that I did complete the challenge and under the 30-days, by four. I loved it! I now realize that I have no excuses not to sit my butt down in a chair at my writing table. I realized that I can whip words out quite easily, but it is the editing that is a bite in the ass! Coming up with ideas was not a challenge to me. My many uncompleted short stories can attest to that. It is finishing them. Because I know that when they have been completed, that means that the editing process must begin. And that scares the hell out of me!
Writing is my passion, yes, but along with having a great love for words, I have a total fear of rejection. That’s why I found the 30-day challenge so refreshing. I didn’t need to worry about editing it. That will come later, if I so choose to submit it for publication. I find it frightening to turn around and slice and dice my stories. One does get attached to one’s imaginary friends. Or at least I do. You love them into existence and then you have to massacre the hell out of your manuscript to make it just right. I struggle with that. That’s why I am constantly trying to find just the right words, even from the beginning of a new piece. Maybe that’s part of my fear. Fear of not having it just right. Fear of an editor scratching his or her head and wondering why in God’s name did I even submit this piece of junk. I want them to like it. I want them to understand where I’m coming from. Sometimes it is from a happy place, other times it is wrenched out of the darkness from my soul.
We have those moments as writers. Please. Please. Please. Be gentle with my characters. They are fragile. Just as I am. I want to know that I have talent. I want to be able to share this with the world. I don’t need fame or riches, just the opportunity to share my thoughts, feelings, and voice with the world. All I’m asking for is a chance to get out there, to be heard. I love to write. I love words. I don’t want to be hurt. But I also don’t want to live in the constant state of fear of rejection. Can you relate?