Ya Can’t Please Everyone, So Ya Got To Please Yourself
For this month’s WriYe Blogging Circle, we go straight to the root of the problem:
Why did you start writing?
How has your writing improved since you first started? What would you still like to improve?
So, let’s get back to the beginning. Why do I write?
Why wouldn’t I write? It’s where I belong, playing out the dreams and imagination that runs rampant in my mind. And it’s not something I can turn off on a whim. No matter how long I step away from it to focus on something else – first triathlon, first marathon, first child – it’s that comforting home I can turn to to find it waiting with open arms. Or blank page, as it may.
It’s like a compulsion. I always have a pocket journal – Field Notes, Log + Jotter, Moleskine – on me to take down notes or plot ideas or breakthroughs. There are more To Be Written plots on my computer than finished novels. I can’t stop and I won’t stop.
The only time I pause is when it is no longer fun. That’s the heart of the entire reason for my writing: fun. I have to enjoy it. To love it. Or else there’s no point in doing it.
That doesn’t mean I have to love it every day. To really become a published writer, writing consistently is important. Dedication over inspiration and all of that. But overall, I have to reach the end of the novel and say “I enjoyed that.”
Oh Ancient Gods of My People – yes. I was a passive, telling-because-showing-means-what? novelist as a youth. Which I think is rather normal for most new writers. My characters were either flat or Mary Sues. My dialogue was florid enough to be in a funeral home.
But still, I enjoyed it.
What do I still need to improve? Consistency.
Fixing those muddled middles that are worse than a quagmire.
Most of all? Growing a thick skin. Plums are jealous of my skin’s thinness. But if I am going to be critiqued to improve, I need to actually accept it without pouting. (Or at least without pouting for more than a few hours.)