I haven’t written in here in a long time…. Apologize to all my loyal fans. All one of you ;). Actually, I like the number of unique viewers I have to this site. Makes me feel kind of special. Though I’m sure half of you got here by accident.
I’ve been having kind of a hard time. I think the past six years have been so… different from what I was used to (I wonder why!) that I had a hard time remember who I was and what I was interested in, etc. Slowly I’ve been re-discovering myself, but all this discovery work wreaks havoc on my work. But I think, *think*, I am finally ready to move on now. I’ll knock off the flip-flopping and GET TO WORK!!
It’s very hard to say, “Ok, I’m done with this project. It’s been swell, but the swelling’s gone down. It’s been a learning experience, but now it’s time to move on.” Obviously for me, it’s harder than for some people. I’ve said that I was going to move on many many times, but then I just go back to the same old projects. Well, I’ve solved that problem. I boxed up all my files, and put them in the attic this week! I am DONE. I will probably go back to at least a couple of my old stories in the future, when there is a sufficient distance between me and them for a while. But I need to work on something completely new, something that I am actually interested in, rather than things that seemed fun at the moment, but that I didn’t really think through to see if they would actually work, etc. I feel a bit of embarrassment at admitting that I need to leave all those behind for now, that I worked so much on projects that may come to nothing, but many many authors have said that they have those manuscripts under the bed that no one has seen, and that no one will ever see. Just because I wrote a manuscript does not mean it must be published. I am not so blind to think that something I wrote five years ago is worthy of publishing. I should hope that my mind and talent has improved a deal since then. I find that the stories I began years ago no longer reflect who I am, or the ideals that I hold, today. I have learned a lot and grown a lot. I could probably “fix” the stories to be publishable, but why should I force myself to do so when I know those stories are not my best? The advice, “Just finish it” is worthy, but only if finishing it is worth missing more time on things that are worthwhile. I’ve learned what I could. I’ve milked story ideas dry, and now it’s time to move on. I need to give those stories some years to recover. I need to accept that others maybe didn’t need this period of learning. Maybe if I had started my career later in life, I might not have needed four or five (all right, six) manuscripts to “find myself.” But everyone’s different. I’m just not the type who spit gold with the first novel I wrote. Seven is a lucky number, isn’t it?
So, thus, I start my seventh novel, Virtus, a novel of Ancient Rome.