Thursday, July 26, 2012

Points Well Taken

So I've had a day off to wallow in my misery, to cry like a baby in the shower and to dsconnect for a moment from the "accountant matrix"
So. Here's the rest of it. I took a bit of time this morning and revisited one of my unborn babies called "Ephesus Offense." For those of you who are interested, and or bored - I have this one up - the first three chapters on my moss covered website - You're welcome to read it at your leisure. I did and I got all lathered up over it. I got excited. I thought of some scenes and dialogue and situations and plot lines. It was pretty much instant. Like I'd never tabled it. The passion and joy is still there. That is a given.
However. I can't take my left lobe and forcibly expel it from my cranium. For 40 years I have been the organizer. The planner. The caretaker. The responsible one. The designated driver. It, much like the writer is part of my core identity. Even when I started writing - it wasn't for myself. It was always for others. Its one of the reasons I blog instead of just keeping a journal. Writing simply for myself makes the writing irrelevant, quickly. The writing itself must have a purpose outside of my own brain or its not worth the investment of time. If I need to please myself - a hot shower does it. Writing is for others. It can be simple - the writing can be simply to help someone else escape their own reality for five minutes or have a belly laugh or a good cry. But the writing is something from with in me that has to flow out to others.
That being said. I have to temper it. It can be read without being purchased. I don't have to make a million or even break even. Not every written project is a money making business. (Blogging is good for that. I blog because I can and its free...right?) And yes, it may take years and years to see a book break even - if one ever breaks even. At my core, I would love to be financially solvent as a writer, but more than that, I just want to be read.
The impatience definitely comes from knowing that once I complete a book - there is the entire business aspect to it - even if one plans to self publish to get it into the hands of readers - there is that investment of money and I am unable to do that right now. And that is where my left brain shorts my right brain and says - So you're gonna do what? Expend all this electricity building a world in here, spew it out on paper and then - nothing? Oh HELL no. We need that energy to support the "real" job and the "parental obligations" - write a book, my amygdala! Seriously? You spent a thousand dollars and a couple of years on BC and you have a crate in your closet. Absolutely no way this left lobe is allowing you to run roughshod over the brain pan like that again."
So I have to come to terms with both sides of my brain. The goal needs to be - completion of novels in x amount of time. Let the left brain manage the mechanics. And the right brain needs to just write and not worry about what happens when its done - because that's the goal. Just getting it done. Once the novels are done and I have my whole check coming to me - then I can map out things like publication.
You see. I've been trained to see things from start to finish, sequentially and to organize the processes to get to completion. I just have to move that finish line back. In this case. Publication is unattainable. But writing a novel isn't. So that's the purpose. That's the ribbon to cross. Write the freaking book. Get it done. (All of them.) Its not ideal - but its not an exercise in potential failure. I can write the freaking books - you know? Worst case scenario? I buy a ream of paper and print out a few copies on my own and send it to unsuspecting victims/friends..yeah. That's the ticket.
Yes, I am obstinate, thick skulled and ornery - but I do listen to what you have to say. And I appreciate you. Always.
On a lighter note. I found out yesterday that my maternal family and my stepsibling's paternal family share lineage. (my mom is related to the father of my stepsisters - mu wuh?) And - my "second dad" (the one mom says is my real father.) is related to - wait for it ATTILA THE HUN! (falls of chair in paroxysms of maniacal laughter!) I find it truly humorous. I'm sick that way.

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