Friday, June 10, 2011


I have a great talent for starting something , but a terrible knack for being unable to finish the task. Not because I am lazy, although I sometimes feel that way. No, it's because I get fired up about starting something, lay out a plan, and dive in. The bad thing is that I often get hit with a bunch of rip tides. You might call it writers block, but I call it irritating. I want to write something catchy, that people will love and bombard the bookstore with their flouncing tendencies to pounce on the newest hit. And yet, I want to just be me. I read through the first couple chapters of my book, and think, "Are people really going to want to read this?" In reality, though, writing should be for me and not for the masses. Why have I started thinking about what everyone else will think, and whether another book about fairies will intrigue or bore? Why am I so worried about ratings and critics, and writing the next great novel about another world? The book is about magic and betrayal and the human heart and love, and that is not something I can quantify. We write what we know, and I know myself and I know people.

It's just getting down to it that is hard now.

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