My Characters; My Friends.

I’ve finished the first 50 pages of Indigo for the WeBook contest and submitted it for judging. It will most likely be a week or so before I start seeing feedback from readers, and my anxiety is palpable. It’s always nerve-racking to send your creative babies out into the world, but this one is especially difficult for some reason. There is always fear of rejection – I think that’s natural for any author, but Indigo gets my blood pumping so differently than Ghosting did. He’s been in my head for so long, nagging at me to get out, and now that I’m doing that – it’s like telling a deeply personal secret to the world. It’s not as though I’m baring my soul, or standing naked in the middle of a mall, but close - I think that’s a pretty close analogy.

I'm ascerred.

When you spend countless hours thinking, writing, reading, re-reading, and editing the crap out of something, it’s hard not to personalize it. It’s even harder not to internalize the characters. They live in your head – and you’re the biographer telling their story. You want to get it right, and you want to do right by them. After all, they are trusting you to tell it correctly. That’s a big responsibility for an author to undertake.

My own imagination brought them to life, sure. But now that they’re here in my head, they’ve evolved into something somewhat real. They have their own personalities, senses of humor, vices, mannerisms, histories, endearing qualities, and character flaws (pun intended). No, I’ve not gone mad with invisible friends. I don’t talk to them - out loud anyway, but they are always present in some way. It’s hard to explain fully. It truly is one of the wonders of being a writer – the ability to create these completely intangible, yet concrete people and scenarios. And as a writer, you live with them almost all the time, whether you want to or not.

So all I can do now is wait for the feedback and criticisms from the contest reviewers with a mixture of excitement and dread. It’s a horrible combination, yet delicious in its own way. In the meantime I’ll just continue writing as though Indigo is the best thing since Shakespeare penned his first sonnet. Until the bubble gets burst by a critic, it’s a good feeling to have.

Of Course!

I actually have the itch to write, and my laptop is at the Gateway Repair Center being revived from the land of the dead. Since buying it in June, I've had nothing but trouble with it, but in my mind - that's my writing station. I can't get the same "feel" while writing on my desktop computer.

It's all mental - I get that. It's like a weird baseball-player superstition of wearing the same underwear during a playoff, but it is what it is. I hate that I feel this way. Like, if I was a Real writer, I would be able to write anywhere, anytime. Is that true? Or do all writers have their "favorite" places and ways to write?

Maybe if the desktop weren't in the middle of the living room, where I have to contend with 'Ghostbusters' on the TV all day, I could do it. Even headphones couldn't drown out Bill Murray and the Stay Puft Marshmallow man, I'm afraid. (Thanks Josh!)

I really want to get to my edits too. My good friend Jan (I need a nickname for you, since I'm your 'Goddess' lol) has some really great edits for me.

(Thanks again for taking the time to edit Jan!)

I've put off this massive edit long enough. I need to get those first 50 into Page To Fame. I have the desire to do it now, but a huge mental block with no laptop. Or is it an excuse? (here I go a-rambling...) I seem to have excuse after excuse as to why I'm not writing. There's always something that keeps me from it. What am I afraid of? Failure? or success? or both?

In my heart I know I should just buckle down and do it. Part of me is just discouraged by everything and anything, so why even try. Another part of me has hope that someday, just maybe, it will be good enough to someone of importance to do something life changing - like sell. But most of me is just scared. Scared that it sucks. Scared that it will be just another one of my failed attempts at something creative. Scared that I will reinforce the knowledge that I'm no good at anything. If I don't try, I can't fail.

But...

If I don't try, I can't succeed either...

I think I need to follow my Jedi training here -

"Do or do not... there is no try."