I’ve taken the plunge. Of course, I’m not sure if I’ll sink or swim but there’s no harm in trying, right?
I’ve started writing my first mystery. Sure it’s still paranormal and I’ve spent more time plotting than anything but hopefully it’ll all pan out in the end. This is actually the first story I’ve felt passionate about in a while. I’m not sure if I should be happy about that or sad. I have so many stories started that I was passionate about as well — but they all fizzled and died a slow agonizing death. This one I’m hopping won’t meet the same fate.
The rate at which I’m getting things published, it looks like one a year for me. Tis truely sad. I know. I’m a slow writer in case any of you hadn’t figured out by now. My internal editor won’t be quiet long enough for me to get 2 pages worth of work done before she’s standing over my shoulder with her red pen scribbling up the pages. I haven’t figured out a way to shut her up. I see something wrong and I can’t move forward until its fixed. It’s truely a disease, one that is slowly killing me. I blame it on my ‘writing roots’. If any of you didn’t know, I started testing my writing skills with fanfiction. (Yes, I know how the world views it but to each their own, I suppose) In that form of writing, most stories are written chapter for chapter and posted as you go along. The need to get that one solidary chapter in its best form is why I find it so hard to write anything now. Instead of spending hours and hours editing, fixing and prettying up something as I go, I’m now forced to just plunge ahead and write crap and THEN come back and fix it. I can’t get my brain wrapped around the concept of letting the crap stay. You can go back and fix it when it’s all said and done. Of course, saying that is easier than actually doing it. I’ve been writing and publishing work since 2002. That’s a long time to do something one way only to try and rework my brain into another way of thinking. Hopefully I’ll get it eventually. I’m trying so that’s all anyone can ask for, right?