Life changes. Confidence falters, yet the strong remain. To endure, to grow, to exist. To be a better writer, I must not only practice my technical skills, but dabble in all sorts of ways of expression. Feel free to check out my blog, ask me questions, explore my writings, learnings, and ramblings.
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Writers are a funny breed of people, while designing heroes and birthing them to black ink, some of us are not brave. Our confidence lies on ice and our pens the elephant tiptoeing along, foot sinking here, a hop there, and one time a plunge to the deep and having to heave yourself up. That sums up being a writer. A little more or a little less, either way our confidence is enviously thin.
The Alundra File was a bucket of water splashed down to fortify the path, and it had. In reality, a vast bulk of self-published material is garbage, AF right along with it. If I could meet the nine people who bought it, I would grovel on my hands and knees, assuring them that I can do better.
I reviewed AF recently, and spent three weeks locked in debate before pulling it down. It’s gone. Never to plague the world again with the prattling of a timid girl who is playing nice with everyone in the sandbox, generously giving away my toys. I did that with that story, did this for one beta and that for another before I became so focused on one aspect that I stripped the story down.
I rewrote it, thinking maybe I could slip in quietly, and then ‘Everything and Nothing’ was published (accepted in April, published in June). I held tangible proof in my hands of writing. Proof I define because and editor thought it was good enough to take.
I read the story, I own a paperback copy of the anthology it is in, and that sealed it AF had to die. It would soon become a hindrance. I was ashamed of it and it sucked. The anthology gave me a questionnaire to fill out, one asking if I used social media and I didn’t want to link AF to anything for a future reader or publisher to see.