I’ve worked myself up over the past year and I’m pretty proud, even though it’s a measly two, of the paying publications I’ve gotten. In my opinion, I worked pretty damn hard to get to that point.
I’m a flighty person by nature. With my interests in art and writing, I sometimes run amuck like an ADD kid without meds. For me to rein in and shake a finger at myself and concentrate on one thing…
It’s an accomplishment I’m darn proud of. One thing I pride myself on is thanking those who have gotten me this far. Without the push in the back, I’d still be dabbling in writing without regard of getting anywhere.
And I mean anywhere.
I would have at least a half a dozen unfinished novels, no short stories to speak of, and I certainly wouldn’t have my artwork in demand. Okay, maybe the artwork’s just in demand by one author but if she didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have a second gig, right?
I started this blog to mark my progress. I’ve steered clear of anything regarding home life and whatnot because honestly, running the dirty laundry out to the world isn’t my style. I’ll tell you I’m married for over twenty years now to the man who stole my heart and have a fantastic son who shows the same talents in art as I have. Yep, very proud of that.
So why don’t I talk about them? It’s not part of the deal I have here. This blog can be described as a pretentious self-absorbed writing log. Here I endlessly talk about how cool I am.
Great concept, right?
Wait…Do I really do that? Sure I’ve written a Cheeky Review or two but even that has tapered off to a mild chivalrous slap on the cheek then an all out MMA fight I’d planned it to be. I guess I’ve tamed down a little or maybe I’ve found a great circle of internet friends who whip and beat my writing technique into shape with a wooden paddle strapped with silk. It hurts at first but the lush fabric takes the sting out of it.
I do talk about what I’ve written too, more of a reminder of what I still have to finish.
So onto the purpose of this blog post:
There is none.
Surprised? Should you be?
Let’s just say that some events as of late have made me realize I’m tired of feeling slighted. Even if it’s my overactive imagination dreaming up things that may or may not be there.
My plan of attack over these superfluous allegations of may-not-be?
I’m going to write. I’m to toss my work into the fish tank and I’m going to reach for the stars this year for a novel publication.
Try and stop me, King Nothing. You’re on Notice.