Which Way do I Go

I'm not quite sure of the direction in which to take this blog. Blogging doesn't come naturally to me. I don't like to talk about myself. I don't have anything - on a personal level - to offer anyone. I refuse to talk politics and religion. My humor is usually taken the wrong way. What I like most is to tell stories. Fictional ones. And to go on for unnecessary paragraphs of narrative description. There are afternoons I could talk about the clouds for pages and pages. Just because the words that form in my head are pleasing to me, and I want to write them down. I could write short stories that collaborate with my novels, even if no one wants to read them, just because it feels like visiting with old friends.

I like to write unfinished lines of poetry, knowing there's no ending to be had. I like to choreograph scenes around songs. I like to listen to music that isn't considered "inspirational" to the writing world at large. I like to sit, for long silent stretches, thinking. This past week, I took a break from blogging and book-writing to put some effort into literary mag submissions, and that's been the devil. When I write a book, I'm totally relaxed. Writing a short story for an intended audience - a high brow audience, no less - makes my palms sweat. I doubt and doubt myself until the story ends up being something clunky and slow, because I was too nervous to write like I always do.

I would love to find a wider slice of my audience. I want to find the people who want to read my books - find more of them. All my blogging, Facebooking, Tweeting...that feels like standing in the center of an empty auditorium and shouting at no one through a bullhorn. Distinguish yourself, the pros say. Distinguish myself among thousands of others distinguishing themselves? The trick is to find the people who want to find my books. People like me. When I discover an author I like, I read all of her books. I don't ever want anyone to feel obligated to read my books - I want people to be curious, and to be touched, and to want to read the rest. There's no joy in coercion, only in the true smiles of readers who found a moment of enjoyment in something I've written.

So I guess what I'm saying is bear with me. I would love to post more fiction pieces on here and I'll probably be brainstorming out loud. I should be editing Made for Breaking right now, but it's the loveliest morning - not at all like July. And I have this little scene in my head I want to put on paper...