By here, I meant somewhere, but it’s not found on a map. There’s no X Marks the Spot. Here could be a void, a floating corner in the universe, in a vacuum, under the earth. But here is a good place to start.
Yes, quote me on that.
I just got through The Big Rev, and I’m emerging from the long, numbing slump I’ve been suffering from. Slump = staring at the computer, hardly blinking, trying to squeeze out words but words couldn’t be squeezed; there aren’t any. The feeling of being lost, of being stuck, of going nowhere and probably ending up dead halfway through the climb (even as you’re not moving your feet). Sorry for being metaphorical. Back to The Big Rev. I’ve been feeling like a ping-pong ball, going from, “Oh, this is going to be fun,” to “This is shit no one would love to read.” While I believe both sides are true, I need to choose one which settles more comfortably, and I’m choosing the former. In order to do that, I had to make it fun for myself too.
Which, miraculously, sort of happened.
I’m not going to rave about how good my writing was or how unbelievable the plot twists are (clue: both are false). I’m just going to pinch myself for not writing wholeheartedly, and when I did, for not putting it out there. I get it; as writers, we want to keep things for ourselves, watching and waiting for the precious moment where we could light up our fireworks and astound everyone with the loud colors in the sky (or, the ear-deafening sounds, whatever you choose).
But I realized I have been stunting my growth in keeping my past works under the rug, and eventually, forgetting about them. Yes, they’re precious. Yes, I wrote them with blood and sweat and tears (which happens during revising, because revising is HELL). But I’m not growing with them. I’m not seeing my mistakes. I’m not putting myself on the edge and harnessing my daily anxiety with the What If I Write It This Way?
I’m, well, stagnant.
Which is why, from hereon, you can expect me dishing out some of my past works, for free, whether it is for your reading or criticizing. I want to grow. I don’t want to be afraid. I’m not going to flex (because I don’t deserve it), but I want to let you see how stupid and shallow and lighthearted and semi-funny I was in scripting those lines. I want to put out me.
In celebration of that, here are the recent shoes I’ve ruined:
I still dislike this layout, by the way. WHERE ARE MY LARGE FEATURED IMAGES?
See you around! xx