Damn, writing can be hard sometimes. Even if you love it, even if you have a knack for spinning words and phrases, it can be difficult to get the pen to the page or the fingers to the keyboard. It is hard work. I am lucky, however, in the sense that if (and when) I show some self-discipline and write the number of pages I have set out to write, I can usually do it. I don’t know what writer’s block is. I am just plain lazy sometimes.
I have been going through a period of less-than-optimal motivation over the last week, inspired by summer sun and a river beckoning out behind the house (I live on the banks of the beautiful North Umpqua river in Oregon.) So I swam instead of wrote, I let my blogs and my fiction languish while frolicking under blue skies. This week, my motivation (along with cloudy weather) has returned, so I have been blogging again, and later today will attack my fiction as well.
I have believed, since I was ten years old, that I would be a writer professionally. I have written a lot, but I have also stopped writing on numerous occasions as well, and I rarely took the necessary steps to get published. Now I am doing things differently, I am halfway through getting my transfer degree (in journalism), I am publishing my stories on Smashwords, and I am taking it much more seriously. Just getting my work out there is a big step for me. Being influenced by people who believe in my work has also helped immensely.
I still have much work to do. I won’t be satisfied until I am writing five pages of new fiction per day, and I won’t be happy until I have achieved the level of success I believe I am capable of. Pen in hand, I put thoughts to the page, and bring new worlds into existence…