I have written 28 posts for this blog so far; not to mention several others for my own website. Over the course of my posts I’ve shared numerous stories about myself, some funny, some personal, hopefully all made some sort of point. But as this blog continues to grow I can’t help but notice that I am keeping something from you. I realized that there are all sorts of blogs out there written by writers about writing for other writers and that there are different ways of doing things. However, most, if not all, do one thing that I just can’t bring myself to do.
Share my work.
Like most writers, writing is very personal for me. I just discovered my need for it. On one hand I’m still learning how to realize my dream while raising two young children and fulfilling responsibilities I agreed to long before discovering this new path. On the other, it’s like a brand new toy and I’m not ready to share it with anyone yet.
I’ve been on Twitter for four months now and in those months I have read several snippets, synopses and samples from countless writers. I have learned more about some of my new found friends through their works than through actual conversations with them. They shared their most intimate thoughts with me whether they came out and blatantly said it in prose or weaved them beautifully through poetry.
Over the weekend a #pubwrite friend of mine shared a small snippet of work with me. It wasn’t much, just a couple of sentences, but I loved it. We started discussing his words as if they were living things, carefully handled and positioned in such a way to create the perfect image. I could feel his excitement for his work transfer over the internet.
I want that excitement; that ability to not only believe in my work but to want, no, need to share it with everyone. I want to be able to write something and publish it on this blog, or on my website. Unfortunately, I still get that jolt of “Holy Sh**” when I hit the “publish” button for these posts.
In my mind I’ve likened it to my acting. I’ve done musical theatre for so many years I can’t even count, yet I hate karaoke. Why? Because you don’t rehearse for karaoke. (Unless you count singing in my car or shower, then I guess I have no excuses.) The community theatre I’m in has months of rehearsals and run throughs so we can get acquainted with the material.
Maybe that’s why I’m hesitant to show what I have been working on. I guess I could be in what my mind has designated a “rehearsal mode.” However, I am confident it will pass. Just like there’s always an opening night for our shows, there will be one for my writing.
As you guys already know I’m a very open person. I don’t care if you write horror, science fiction, romance, chick-lit, poetry or erotica, a little piece of you comes through your words; it’s a powerful connection. I wish I could be where you are at now, to be on the other end of that connection, but not just yet.
So, thank you, dear friends, for sharing your words with me and trusting me with your thoughts. I cherish, treasure and respect every word you send my way.