Why do I do this to myself?
I have never made an attempt to publish a damned thing, and yet here I am, sitting in front of my laptop, trying to get into writing. I’m going through some of my old writings, hoping to finish a few of my projects, and maybe find something worth completing. I want to publish something. It’s my life’s goal.
So I pulled up a novel I had started years ago and began reading. I think it holds promise, but it needs to be finished. The novel itself it based off a short story I wrote back when I went back to college in 2013. Harvest Moon is about a girl, who after the murder of a boy she was dating, is called back by his spirit to join her in the afterlife.
It’s a lot harder to write an entire novel around a short story. I have to introduce more characters, create a reason for the story to exist. The novel follows her life from the time she is a teenager, then moves to where she is in her thirties, then later to when she’s in her forties, trying to live life normally, while ignoring the call of a boy that awaits her just beyond the veil of life.
Why doesn’t the boy move on? Why is he waiting for her? Why doesn’t she leave this world and join him beyond the world of the living? What ties her to this world, a world in which she no longer belongs?
I hope to do the story justice. I also hope to make this part of my plan for 2019. You can read more about that in my latest post on Stefanilara.com, and the post Looking Up in 2019. I want to finally add author to my resume.
I need to make more time for my writing, including maintaining my blogs, this year. I’ve lost my desire to write in these last couple of years. I haven’t lost my desire to become a published writer. What will it take to get there? The only thing I need is to maintain a level of discipline. I also have to stop being afraid and just get myself out there. Fear of rejection can’t be an excuse to not try.
So I have to write. I have to rewrite. I have to edit. I have to write some more. I can’t let myself give up when things aren’t going well. I have to force myself to resist the temptation to feel as though I will never be good enough.