Musings

Earlier, I tried to write but couldn't. I could barely string words together. Maybe, I have too much on my mind. 

My writing process is usually muse based. I get inspired, I write a story. It's not the best way to finish a book, but I'm trying. 

Sometimes, a goal itself inspires me. I had a performance for a live show that was cancelled due to the pandemic, but it was the impetus for the last chapter of my book. Another time, I put my mind to writing about my Dad's bar and a piece of a story came out that I recently finalized for a chapter of my book.

Maybe I can use that tactic this weekend. I've decided I'm going to set a few concrete story goals and see what happens.

Unfortunately, I'm under the gun. My deadline for the final draft of my memoir is January. And yes, the book is almost there, note the use of almost. Perhaps, I'm too much of a perfectionist. The final stories are coming along. Yet, I feel as if I'm on the verge of writing a needed addition to the book. Something necessary that will take it to a higher level. 

The real problem is now that the dream is so close, I'm terrified of failure. What if no one reads my book? What if people dislike it? 

What if I disappoint myself? Ultimately, what matters most is that I end up satisfied and content with the final version. I am not a content person by nature so this could be tricky, but I'm not going to block myself. 

And then, it's on to book two, which I've started but it is kind of a secret for now. It's law related and I already pitched it to a press.

This writing thing is not a fluke you see. It's my passion. It's everything in some ways. 

So watch out writing world. Here I come.