I’ve returned to pester you. Are you afraid? You should be, because this author lady is back with a vengeance, a new breed of cynicism akin to the “super bug,” and freshly clipped fingernails set for typing.
But first, I have a confession.
I tried to not write. What? Yes, that’s right. Write? No, right. Correct.
I blame Palahniuk. Genius as he is, I think he didn’t realize the power of a stupid little quote in the hands of a heartbroken, misguided little writer. Moi….
“The worst part about writing fiction is the fear of wasting your life behind a keyboard. The idea that, dying, you’ll realize you only lived on paper. Your only adventures were make believe, and while the world fought and kissed, you sat in some dark room masturbating and making money.”
I thought to myself, “I want to fight and kiss… and I’m in the dark room NOT making money.”
I was already in a hole halfway to China thanks to my heart being played as someone’s pinata, so I stopped. Sure, I continued to journal, but I didn’t write the way I used to. I ignored that bitch, Serendipity. I stayed away from the writers group I’d been religiously a part of for nearly a year.
“How can you write anything, anyway,” I justified to myself, “If you’ve never experienced anything?” Experience, I did. The fruits of those experiences are now to be a part of my second blog, “Over Katrina’s Rainbow.” The writing dregs, well, those are for you good people. No need to thank me.
So, yes, I’m back. Are you ready, because I am.