It’s time to start writing again . . .
The realization that the time was here again hit me a few days ago – Friday night/Saturday morning (depending on your opinion as to whether a new day actually starts until you’ve slept or not). Husband and I had spent a little time with my sister, which was nice, but somewhere along the way I started talking about my books (I’ve just recently began calling it ‘soapboxing’). At some point, Husband went inside and left Sister and I standing out in my driveway. Talk of books slowly bled over into my anxieties – both in general, and where they pertain to my work.
I don’t generally do a lot of talking when I interact with my sister. More of it now than I used to, for sure. But I think that was the most talking that I’ve ever done with her about myself . . . possibly ever. It was nice.
Anyway, there are a few points to this. She basically told me that I’m being irrational about things, which is something I’ve been aware of for an extremely long time. I know when my reactions aren’t ‘normal’, but . . . it’s me.
My realization was that it was finally time. I’ve been losing my mind, and writing is . . . Well, it keeps me sane.
I haven’t been able to write a new story – despite my attempts – since I finished The Big 2 (which is my second series and, after looking through my first yesterday, is the only one worth mentioning). I blamed it on needing to get this series going somewhere – to be able to set it free, or lay it to rest, or do something FINAL with it. Realizing that it is now in the hands of Editor and all that I’m doing is waiting to hear back . . . Well . . . that’s pretty final. I have nothing else to do with it – at least not the first book, which is the only one that I can focus on until it’s OUT THERE (until I get it back, that is).
So I’m finally – in a way – feeling that sense of finality with it. Not with the world, but with those four books and their part in it. I’m torn about that, but it had to happen eventually.
I’ve been going back and forth about WHAT I want to write next. I have a few ideas swirling around in my head, and one of them that I’d started (those attempts at writing I mentioned earlier). But after doing some major self-evaluation where it pertains to my writing – playing to strengths, etc. – I’m just not so sure that I could do a more contemporary-based-in-this-world sort of book, and do it well. I don’t know.
Which is making me look at tonight and my adventure out into my writing shed in a new light. I have about as much idea-wise as I’ve always had when starting out . . . just the basis of SOMETHING. But . . . I’m looking at it as a completely new journey. Not into a new world, which will naturally happen once I get one set up, but a journey into my own abilities and limits with writing. I just might try an experiment – solely for myself.
I’m thinking I might try this absolutely mad concept of working on multiple things at one time. Possibly that experiment while working on an entirely new story. Who knows?
I’m going to have to get much better at multitasking. I’ve already fallen behind (AGAIN) with reading on here, and I’m one day late with my three-day-limit. Could be worse.
I’ll figure something out. Some sort of schedule, or something. We’ll see how that goes.
Either way, it will be new. And no matter the apprehension I feel towards leaving the world that I’m familiar with and love so completely . . . I can’t help but be excited about going on a new journey.
It will have to be good in order to hold a candle (in my heart) next to the old one.
We’ll see. 😉