I recognized something today. This blogging thing, the whole business? You know what this is?
What? No, that’s not a trick question. Huh? No, I don’t mean business like that. Sure, technically I am trying to sell something but it’s not that. Hey, put your pants back on! Geez.
Like I was saying, it’s more than just me spitting bizarre squabble over random pixels on the screen. It’s a resource. For you, for me. The design idea here is I’m trading you for your time. You get entertained, I get some views. Some personal investment of your day. That’s huge.
I’m writing a book. That’s my current big project and something goofy has happened to it. And I don’t mean in a semi autistic, sentient, talking dog sort of way either. It’s a lot worse than that.
I’m not going to say I hit a wall because that’s just absurd. I have come to recognize over time that the concept of “Writer’s Block” as some mythical word smithing boogeyman is a misleading one. Hell, let’s just call it outright stupid. The block is more of a self-imposed nuisance. A symptom of a much greater problem.
But that is for another time.
I have a mostly finished novel right now. Why do I say mostly?
That would be because I keep rewriting bits of the bloody thing. I have a solid idea. I’m just a little indecisive about how I’m wrapping it up. Of the three different endings I’ve hammered out, I’ve liked zero of them. And in terms of a book being successful, that’s a problem. Not having an ending disqualifies you.
That is a formula that just doesn’t work.
So not only can I not continue with the publication process due to, oh I don’t know, not having the damn thing done, it’s also delaying my push to an editor. I can’t send out an unfinished product for edits anymore then I could get half a novel into a Barnes and Noble.
So why tell you all this?
Because you’re my resource. This blog exists for me as much as it exists for you. I ramble, it helps me to assign an identity to my problem. It’s like the premise in that Warlock movie. Say the true name of God and reality unravels. I speak the true name of my woe and it melts away.
MELTED BY MY STEELY GAZE!
It’s like therapy. Kill your demons. Exorcise their pompous, leathery back sides and they pester you no more.