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Stream of Consciousness…

So I am trying to get back in the habit of writing… Not that easy these days. I was able to write 25 of 30 days last November to complete my first novel. Then I took a break from the process. My brain was hurting me – that novel wasn’t planned in any way and keeping the story in-line was almost painful. I’m at the point where I’ve edited it a couple time and have asked others to read it and provide feedback. I’ve also started working on drafting the second part of the story. AND I’m working on a blogged book… basically a novel released in 1000 to 1500 bit blurbs. Clearly the story will be lacking in many ways, but my hope is to build readership for the blog. But I have to find some other things to say. I have a lot to say, socially, politically, emotionally, but I always worry that those kind of things wouldn’t be appropriate for a writer’s platform.

Perhaps that’s indicative of my over-riding fear of being relevant. What does that really mean to me? Relevant means who in the hell really wants to read my writing? Who really cares about my thoughts, my feelings? I can’t imagine that anyone would to be honest. But the stories burn in my mind. They almost haunt my dreams and I want to share that with the world. Or whomever wants to see it. Probably much less reaching than the world (LOL).

So anywho, I think part of the trouble is I’ve taken on too much creativity in my free time. I work full time, I am launching a mobile marketing firm (all by my lonesome) and I’m still hoping to pursue my writing. Writing is my bliss, it’s my passion. It’s the thing I want to be doing when I’m 100. On my tombstone I want it to say “She told a damn good story.” The only way anyone would know that is if I share my thoughts and chase these dreams that only I can understand. I recently quit a 60 hr a week job that left me physically and mentally drained. I couldn’t do anything but work and sleep. I took a pay cut, and decided to follow my bliss – which has led me to this rambling blog post.

Every now and again I revert back to that scared person. Who cares what I think? Do I even care what I think? I need to make my way in the universe I hope that at some point people will care what I have to say – not in a politically significant way. I mean in a “this is delicious and amusing and though provoking” way. In a she gets me in a way no stranger should, and reading what she writes makes me feel better. Or makes me think about things in a new way.

My first novel is a fantasy story at the surface. But deep down, it’s about a girl who is forced to face the fact that she isn’t accepted for who she is no matter what planet she’s on – half black, half white, or half human, half alien. That’s how I feel some days and I think it’s good to explore that kind of person. How many people can readily identify with not fitting in? No matter how popular or well liked, we all can. I want to tell the stories that are striking for their simplicity of message, but creates a mental movie that allows a reader to fall in. Those are the kinds of stories I love to read. I love getting lost in the story’s world and disconnecting from reality for a while.

And back to the other kinds of writing – I have thoughts on all type of things. Is it right to post that to my writer’s platform? Would my sci-fi/fantasy writer’s give a crap about my feelings on being a minority in America? Or my thoughts on natural hair vs. relaxed hair (I’m pro-choice)? Perhaps not, but I still feel compelled to tell it. Like the world is missing out without hearing my thoughts on these tings. Maybe. Maybe not. Perhaps I’ll try it once or twice and see how it goes. I’d hate to dilute the message, but then again dilution may be the best thing for me. Sparking conversation is so controversial these days. Is it true for authors/writers that there is no such thing as bad publicity? I guess I’ll find out.

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