Friday the thirteenth, and showing up the first month of the year! This is going to be a great year! Talk about “Lucky Seven.”
Not exactly sure why, but I have a feeling this year is going to be fun and interesting. Writing progress instead of continuing to circle the bowl of bad writing in a vain attempt to avoid writing from my gut.
That is a scary thought. Going with my gut— when it comes to writing. It’s an internal nakedness in a way, writing that is. Why? Because writing requires observation, reflection as much as inspiration, both internally as well as externally.
As I tried to explain to a friend of mine why I let loose with rough drafts far more easier than polished edits— it’s all about hiding behind the misspelled words and awkward grammar, creating distraction with improper punctuation. That and a way to weed out those “that’s good” or “I like it” polite comments that are more comfortable to say than: “I don’t get it,” “I don’t like your style of writing,” or cutting to the quick with a straight forward, “this is awful.”
All of which I, myself have thought or said about my own, as well as, other’s writing. Haven’t we all? I have read some literary greats that I honestly just didn’t understand much less have any positive comment regarding. Writing is a subjective art; for the writer as much as it is for the reader.
Finding the audience for what I write is tough, too. It’s complicated. Settling into a specific genre would help, but that is so difficult to accept other than bad, horrible, awful, difficult, etc. Those I am comfortable with! This conundrum is my own fear inciting horror story. Where we come back to scary things, for some Friday the thirteen falls in that category. To me, it’s just another day to write.