Sunday Confessions

foldersWhere am I as a writer? That’s a good question. Sometimes I actually wonder if I can even call myself a writer. There are even times where I feel like I could truly put it all aside and quit writing entirely. Of course, that is a preposterous idea, but still it is one I oftentimes entertain. I am fortunate to have some incredible friends that I can go to and whine and complain to. They sit by, nod and smile…knowing I’ll never give it up. I may put my creative activities to the side for a time; sometimes even a long time, but I doubt I’ll ever be able to give up writing completely. It’s ingrained within me. My brain never shuts off. Creatures and characters, scenes, and subplots are always going on somewhere in the deep darkness that is my mind.

Today I did something that made me feel like I was moving towards the action side of writing. I printed out three of my four novels. My printer cried and bellowed in pain as I did this. I printed them because all three of these novels are complete from beginning to end. All they need is editing. I may say that demonized word ‘editing’ as something lightly done, however I know for a fact that it is not something done lightly. Not in the very least.

For too long now I have allowed myself to cower in the corner, let dust build up on my desk, and look away from these novels that cry out to me for attention. I’m tired of living like this. It is more exhausting to not work on the editing than it is to get it done. It’s mentally excruciating to ignore my babies. More than that, it is too entirely depressing.  So I’m going to quit living like this. I have to. For my own sanity, I need to get back to work. Not to just call myself a writer though, but to find peace within myself. For your entertainment…my three novels are pictured here…I can hear cheers and jubilant cries from my characters. And it pleases my soul.

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