As a writer, I’ve decided to give myself freedom and permission to admit that I don’t exactly know how to write. I just know that I do. The rules of grammar, and story plotting often times escape me, I feel it’s why I do so well with poems, and perhaps essays, and very short stories, yet have struggled historically with longer stories. I have grand schemes and ideas, and things that I know are important in the story, like flashpoint in the history of the novel, and yet a very bumbling sort of meddling through method of conveying it all.
I’m admitting this to myself, and to all of you, in the hopes that pulling down the walls of perfection that entrap my writing, will allow me to be more open to learning, and perhaps improving.
The fear of not getting things right, I’ve allowed that fear to prevent me from writing longer stories, or at least getting to the end of one, for a good too many years now.
I’m doing away with that now, and pivoting. I’ve decided to begin sharing (and complete the writing of) a novel that I started to create in 2016. It has been languishing on my desktop for a long while now because I don’t know how to bring it all together in the perfect way. I have accepted that it will not be perfect, it will be messy, and perhaps it won’t make as much sense as I would like, there may be potholes, and things won’t go exactly how I wish, and that is okay. (So far it’s been a daily practice of reminding myself this.)
If you wish to read the story you can read it here. Perhaps you could encourage me, and join me in this journey as i go from a very unpolished yet meaningful novel, to something slightly more polished.
Fine Words Weave