So I’m deciding to start actually blogging. There’s a strong chance I’m just going to rip this site down at some point, but for the moment I feel an impulse to write something.
Before the end of this year, I want an agent. I want somebody who’s going to look at my work and say it has promise and is worth taking a chance on. Before the end of this year I want to be recognized as a writer by a wider community than my most immediate friends, who I honestly love and appreciate deeply. But I can’t make a living that way. That’s no secret.
Having said that, I’m realizing navigating through a manuscript that is well over 200,000 words is cumbersome and stressful, especially with the background knowledge that the majority of it will be ripped apart by any editor or publisher who takes it. First time novelists don’t publish at high word counts, and I get that. I’m fine with that. I just want to be published so I can start the marketing process.
Now that I’m actually in the groove of this blogging thing again, it feels kind of good. Cathartic, nice release. I might get no views on this. I expect that. I also almost wish that. At least for now.
The struggle is real. I appreciate your allowing me to direct your wandering thoughts for these few moments, stranger reading this. I’ll better entertain in the future.
Give me just a little more time.