I travel to places often in my mind. I was astounded at the places I’ve gone so far with these essays and journal entries. I don’t mention this to brag- more to congratulate myself for the work I’ve done thus far. It is work in the sense that I want these articles essays and journal entries to have some significance, no matter how minute or grand it may be.
Today I’m going to jump in and write fiction. Not on here, of course- I will publish my stories of fiction, and you all can purchase them so as to read them. I plan to start writing what I didn’t write previously. So I’ll probably throw some of the stories in the garbage. The way I enjoy writing stories is, if I don’t get it right the in the first draft, I start from scratch, and write an entirely new, better draft. I take it chapter at a time. So re-writes aren’t more than 4,500 words. It’s not that big of a deal when I’m able to zone into what I want to say. What I feel needs be said by the fictional characters I’ve created.
I’m grateful for the authors stories I’ve read recently. I observe what I like, and what I don’t care for so much. I emulate what I think works well, make it unique to my prose, and leave out the rest. Most all the authors I’ve read are good storytellers and writers. Some are really good. And a few are on the brink of being great.
I notice for myself that I can’t write unless I have the urge to vomit the words out onto the page. Kind of a bummer in a way- many of you probably write more fiction than I do. At the same time, I’m writing way more non-fiction than most of you are, so- turns out I’m more of a creative non-fiction writer/creator. Maybe some day I’ll become a bitchin’ fiction writer. One can hope, right?