While I did spend two days writing this week, I honestly haven't thought about my writing all that much. Sure, you say. What about all your previous posts? Let's put it this way: I think about my manuscript-in-progress for as long as it takes me to dash off a post about it. Yesterday's post, in fact, helped me a lot in determining where to take my story. I work things out via this blog (boring as that may be to others, but then again, no one is reading it, so...)
Someone online posed the question, "Do you like writing or do you like having written?" My answer would be both. I do like the process of writing, although subconsciously, I'm more enamored by my ability to write clean, well-flowing sentences than I am with my storytelling. That's not something to brag about. In elementary school my teachers considered me "gifted" (there weren't official programs for talented and gifted students then), but realistically, I was an early reader and thus had a head start on other kids my age. Reading prodigiously naturally leads to writing well-structured sentences and to recognizing story flow (as well as to becoming an excellent speller). But originality? I didn't really possess that. Sure, I made up stories in my head, but they weren't great stories. I don't recall ever having the thought, "What if...?" My mind didn't go there.
My entire creative career has followed the same path. My songs were "slices of life", dealing more with emotions than specific circumstances. I was a (too) sensitive kid, focused on my feelings. Even when I was immersed in photography, I took pictures with the intent of evoking emotion in the viewer. Maybe that's why when I began writing, I gravitated to women's fiction.
So, yes I enjoy writing, but most likely for reasons that don't translate well to sales. Probably for the same reason, I enjoy having written. There is, of course, a sense of accomplishment, but mostly I know that if someone reads my writing, they may be unimpressed with the story, but at least they won't be confused. No one can say my mechanics are bad. Not exactly the best goal for a writer to have.
It's not that I haven't generally come up with good ideas. And I've managed to surprise myself with the originality of some of them. They haven't all been good, though. I've explored my share of hackneyed tropes ~ a woman being stalked (or "woman in danger", generally). None of my main characters are accomplishing awesome feats. Some morsels of good ideas have arisen, like an upstanding character living a double life as an internet scammer, or a run-of-the-mill painter transforming herself into an expert carnival ride repairer. So, I'm not completely hopeless in the "what if" realm.
If I was forced to choose between which I "enjoy" more, for all the wrong reasons, I would have to say, having written.
I've deliberately avoided viewing my sales report, but today I pulled it up and found two purchases on March 24. My final promo did run on the 23rd, and that's the only explanation I can come up with. Otherwise, I hadn't had a sale since March 5. I guess the cheap little promos I did weren't entirely useless. I also had 322 page reads on KENP, all for Lies and Love. All in all, these stats amount to very little, but they're still better than zero.
I am, as you know, completely avoiding reviews, but I glanced at the total number on Amazon, which remains stuck at three. Wow, those ARC's, man! They worked great! I know there are a few stragglers posted elsewhere, but why upset myself by reading them?
My inbox contained a newsletter from one of the well-known authors I'd subscribed to, when I was trying to figure out how to formulate my own. I honestly don't know why this woman even bothers (the same question I ask myself). Content-wise, it's really stark. She included an Easter message, a plug for her book, and a recipe (been there; tried that). She probably does it because she feels she has to. I'm kind of that way, too, at the moment, but I predict my monthly newsletter will eventually become defunct. It's not that I'm pained by the process, but it's so pointless.
It looks like today will be a writing day. I'm hoping to feel more inspired than heretofore. Condensing "Radio Crazy' turned into a job, and I don't want to feel that way again.
At least maybe I can pen a few cohesive sentences.
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