Accelerating energy trying to corral profusions of ideas to capture in writing life long passions on a collision course of similarities. Looking around, no one has written about it yet. Some have skimmed the edges, but have not immersed to the level I have. I check out the skimmers only to learn their work is of no use to me. I review to tell them so, only to discover some writers have egos so fragile that to critique them is tantamount to threatening their first born.
But the writers who write about writing tell me to interact with other writers. So, is interacting joining a mutual admiration writer's group? Tried it a couple of times, most were short lived and died a merciful demise. Read about writing. Some good stuff out there. Easy enough to get swept up in it, even to get enthused when you think you're actually learning something. Then you notice that while you're reading about writing, guess what? You're not writing.
Same goes for the writing mags. All the dope on the genre du jour that agents are seeking, or how to query, or what absolutely must be in your first pages, gets a little old. And the new agents seeking someone to represent, to me would be like being represented by my grand kids (all of whom are twenty somethings). And some of the mags suggest, and not so subtly, that without an MFA in writing, or some time spent in a mountain or island retreat, you need not submit anything because it will go right to the slush pile and maybe be read some day by some intern (aka MFA candidate)
And then there is the 'platform'. Writer's Market says I should have one. So here is the latest post. But, once again, guess what? While I writing this post, I am not writing or researching my novel, I am not editing or compiling my poetry collection, and I am not fleshing out ideas for my other writing thoughts.
So, if you are visiting my blog, thanks for stopping in, and if there are no new posts for a while, just assume that I am off to an island writing retreat, or to some big city writer's conference getting my first pages shredded, or my ego shattered at a pitch session, or away enrolling in an MFA program at an obscure university, or perhaps, just maybe, I am actually WRITING SOMETHING!
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