Each thing I do I rush through so I can do
something else. In such a way do these days pass -
a blend of stock cars racing and the never
ending building of a gothic cathedral.
Through the windows of my speeding car, I see
all that I love falling away: books unread,
jokes untold, landscapes unvisited. And why?
What treasure do I expect in my future?
-An exerpt from Stephen Dobyns "Pursuit"As with most writers my age, I struggle with obscurity, commitment, and consistency. We scrawl and type with mad intensity, hoping to cash in on our prose while the eBook gold rush flourishes. We read the long odds and struggles of publication, and the continued hardships thereafter. Pressure from unseen forces, subconscious and otherwise, start to crush the creativity and fire from our work. Under all of this weight, self doubt diminishes our will and confidence
Then again, maybe it's just me.
I know that I have let the frustrations, failures, and long odds of the publishing industry get to me. I've allowed it to affect the work that I do, even though I stand outside of its walls. I let the business come before writing, even though I am lacking a final draft. I haven't had the chance to query an agent or book publisher, but I let their presence haunt me.
Yet, there is something I am just now starting to realize; I have all the time in the world. I'm an apprentice, not a journeyman, so it's okay for me to make mistakes, or to get overwhelmed at times. I'm allowed to botch a short story, or to run ten edits before I actually finish a piece of fiction. This is the time to learn from my errors, not to rush each word toward a publisher or market. I'm slowly earning my way toward that journeyman level, and each day that another 1,000 words hits the page brings me a step closer. I can't let the bloggers and tweeps dissuade me from writing based off of their experiences.
Wednesdays are supposed to be about my current works in progress. I apologize for the departure, but being that the entirety of my writing life is a WIP, I felt it was appropriate.
Now, on to the link dump:
The poem at the top is incredible, you can find it here.
Today's post was inspired by Zoe Winters, and her post entitled Slow Down, the Tortoise Won.
Austin Wulf makes his second appearance on the link dump with Zen and the Art of Bullshit.
A reading recommendation from me, John Dies at the End. Seriously fucking good. So far.
I know its a bit of self pimpage, but here is my twitter. Hows about a follow?