Music: Night Club – “Schizophrenic”
Where do I begin? Heh. The blank page strikes again. I’ve been on this writing journey for more than twenty-some years now, but I’m no closer to my goal of having a writing career. I’ve written novels and countless revisions. I’ve penned plenty of short stories and more poetry than I care to count. And while I’ve gotten nibbles here and there, the sad truth is that no one wants to represent me or buy my work. I’ve tried so hard for so long to be traditionally published that I’m finally burnt out on the whole thing.
I still feel the need to write poetry, which I’m thankful for, but the passion for writing fiction just isn’t there anymore. The fire may be extinguished, but I believe that there are still embers burning somewhere deep inside, unwilling to give up the ghost. I’ve done everything that I can think of to reignite it, including giving it time but so far nothing has worked. Given that fiction has been tied to my dreams and my identity for the longest time, I don’t know where that leaves me.
The only thing I haven’t tried is journaling, hence why I’m writing this entry. I don’t know if it can help rekindle that lost passion or not, but it’s at least another form of writing outside of poetry that I can embrace. To that end, I’m switching the purpose of my website from being a professional author website to that of being my journal. I imagine I’ll keep tweaking things until they feel right but who doesn’t decorate their journals to make them unique?
Is it the right thing to do? Who knows but I have do something.