Today I have managed to spend a shockingly large portion of the day procrastinating but I also have worked through some lessons of a Skillshare writing class and I’m doing this entry. The guilt of having spent money spurring me on. I’m on my front porch writing this while it rains. Rain smells amazing. I started my second listen of the Art of Asking. One of Amanda Palmer’s suggestions is coinciding with my class in a way. She suggests taking any hater comment and imagining it being aimed at the Dalai Lama. My class suggests writing down all of your fears and then either crossing them out one by one or deleting them. Both are a way of taking out the mental trash. My problem is, I’m not even worried about what people will think of what I write. I’m just worried they will read it. I seriously may need a pen name if I ever manage to finish anything. That’s why this blog is a way for me to attempt to get past that. Though so far it has been oddly comforting to see that no one is reading it 🙂 At least I’m putting something out there with the possibility of being read. For a while I participated in More Love Letters. Part of it was making little encouraging notes to be left for strangers. I wrote so many notes! They are still in my wallet! I just checked my twitter. I wrote them April 2013. Cyclical much? I loved making the notes but I’m terrrified of someone seeing me leaving them. Thinking I’m a vandal. Reading them while I’m still nearby and knowing who wrote them. I need to make distributing them one of my goals. I think I did leave one in Target one day? I want to go somewhere to write. Writing at home is tough with various chores looming over me. My brain justifies it as not being procrastination because these things do need to be done. Desire to be a writer sure is getting my house clean.
Welcome to the blog that I’ll probably abandon in three days! Seriously, I have so many orphaned blogs out there. I actually just found a partial post I’d written for last year’s “IMMA BLOGGER NOW WOOOO” phase. It was dated April12, 2014. So, my spurts are apparently cyclical. My goal here (having a goal and paying money for a domain are my ways of trying to keep myself going this time) is accountability. I want to write. I’ve wanted to write for years. Since I was 10, at least. That’s the first time I remember writing a story then trashing it. It was about vampires and werewolves – which I really regret trashing now. I wanted to be like my hero, Stephen King. We’ll likely delve into why I wasn’t reading Goosebumps or Sweet Valley High like the other girls later on (look at me all planning another post already). But anyway, since I trashed that first story, I trashed every subsequent story, diary, journal entry, word processor floppy disc, computer document, journaling app, and IPhone note that could in anyway give a glimpse into my creativity, my thoughts or how I was feeling. If I wrote it, I trashed it. Now, I’m seemingly stuck in a career I do not and have never enjoyed. I still want to write. We won’t get into my failed NANOWRIMO attempts just yet. I still have piles of journals with pages torn out. Yes,I admit to trashing some just last week. I just want to sip tea and write all day. When I have days when it’s possible to sip tea and write all day, the fear tells me I can’t because what if someone READS IT!? We can’t have that, why don’t you just go do some laundry instead. I’m currently experiencing a bout of inspiration brought on by reading The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer. I’ve read countless books and blogs with the just fucking do it approach, but this one has really hit me hard. Maybe because I read it when I actually have what I think might be a good story rolling around in my head and I crave the extra push to get started. So here is where my accountability comes in. While I don’t know if I will ever let anyone see this story I want to write, I’m determined to finish it. I plan on chronicling my progress, struggles, questions, and fears here (lots of fears, lots and lots of fears). I will write this so I will write that. Does that make sense? It does in my head. Also, every author I love blogs so there must be some correlation to blogging and the ability to write awesomeness, right? My introverted self inexplicably feels the need to have people on this quest with me. Off we go then!