Are you like me? You know, even agonize over, the things you aren’t good at, don’t know or just cannot do.(you probably can) Now, I’m mainly talking about my writing, but it really pertains to anything we attempt to accomplish.
I’m not particularly good at grammar, I miss mistakes all the time, which just drive me crazy and I’m not much for the whole networking thing. I do this blog and I make fit and start entries in facebook, when I remember and when I really feel like I have something to say. I don’t feel compelled to do much more than that. For one, I’m just too busy.
Now, that’s not to say everyone else isn’t, it’s just that isn’t how I want to spend time usually. I’d rather go for a walk, work in the garden, read, fuss with my houseplants, do some baking or cooking, play with my pets, actually, almost anything else. It just seems more…active. Sometimes, especially after reading The Writer or Writer’s Digest, I feel a little guilty and a whole lot hopeless. It all has to do with your platform and getting it out there. That’s important in today’s publishing world. The common opinion is without a platform and a viable, accessible one, it’s going to be even harder to get published.
As usual, I seem to go at it the hard way. I guess my platform is: the only platform I have is writing. I love writing. I love rewriting. I love sitting at my desk and imagining invisible chains keeping me there, so I don’t figure out some stupid thing (like checking online, facebook, blog visits and all the other things around now that wastes time and that I really don’t get any joy out of. Something about all of those things feels a lot like a gun to the ribs. More so because we are told we must keep current, we want to be in the know, with it, in the digital age, in the loop.) I have to do, rather than sit and write.
I love banging my head against the desk trying to think of that darn word on the tip of my fingers that I cannot remember and realizing it was the, then wondering if that’s the first signs of Alzheimer’s or just some unknown writer’s condition. I love my thesaurus and I even love that word: thesaurus. It sounds positively Jurassic, dinasaurusic, prehistoric, solid and come-beforeic.
So I’m not good at networking and there is this touch of desperation that I really must do it if I want my writing to go anywhere. I do, but do I really need to do more than the best writing possible? That seems wrong. I keep hoping, but because everyone says different, I do the minimum I can. It’s probably not enough. I acknowledge that, but I feel I’ve made the compromise and I, sometimes, recent it. I wonder, am I alone?
I did something about my lack of grammar skills. I’ve taken a course, I’ve bought and read books, I keep some great references close at hand. Still, I’m uncertain, would never tell anyone not to or how to split an infinitive. (See, you’re not suppose to, are you?) I suspect I do it all the time with utter ignorance. Saying sorry doesn’t help a thing.
Mistakes are made. That’s my bitter truth.
I don’t network much, choosing to spend my time the way I must. Writing, carving out time for those things in my life I love as well: doing my daughterly due diligence, doing due diligence to my life, reading, distressing, staying well and remembering there is more to life than being published.
And I try to remember the things I can do:
I can write every day.
I can make sure I read often.
I can read my writer’s magazines, but not take to heart those suggestions that do not work for me.
I can work hard to remembering what is truly important to my happiness and life.
I can honor my love for writing by concentrating on the writing, by producing the best I can.
I can let go of the guilt about those time stealers I don’t enjoy. Maybe, I’ll be sorry I don’t spend more time blogging, facebook, networking. I don’t think so. Down the road, I could blame my failure on the fact I didn’t do enough of it, but I won’t.
I want a writing life on my terms. I can do that.
No comments:
Post a Comment