Slice 365 of 365
It’s here, finally. As quickly as it started it ended. Tomorrow I level up.
I have not put much thought into today’s post at all. My plan was to write a little bit each day for at least a couple of days because it seemed important enough to not rush it. I think I’ve just built up my expectations too much. Kind of like when Forrest Gump stopped running, and just wanted to go home but all his followers wanted the meaning of life from him.
I used to blog for our local paper, the Prescott Daily Courier. I’m toying with the idea of doing that again in January maybe. I’ve already been in touch with the editor. I’m not sure I want to be that exposed. Writing for them comes with an automatic audience. Plus it would be mostly an audience of older, republican, close-minded, gun-toting, religious zealots, but I don’t want to judge.
Writing has not turned out to be what I’d hoped. I’m not exactly sure what I’d hoped for so I guess I can’t really say that. Except for my hospital stay I wrote every day, which was, at least, part of the point. Some posts were lazy and crappy, some were boring and average, but there were a few that I really liked. I went back and reviewed them. I spent much of the time trying to make sure I didn’t whine. I hope I mostly accomplished that.
I might just write because I want to, not because I expect myself to. I think I’ll also keep it quiet. Maybe my expectations were too high, but I didn’t get all the support I was hoping for on the book. Don’t get me wrong, I got strong support from some great people, but too many folks that I relied on or thought would be there just weren’t. Everybody’s lives are busy, and my hope often run too high.
Plus, it turned out to be too vulnerable a place for me. Reminds me of Harry Chapin’s Mr. Tanner. I don’t have that pushy attitude for marketing of the book that I need, that’s why I sucked as a Realtor. It was also just too much work, and that took all the fun out of it.
If I write again I’ll keep it to myself. Definitely no Facebook, not the personal page at least, Twitter maybe. I’m definitely taking the rest of the year off from writing of any kind, and social media in general. We’ll see what happens after that.
It’s been an experience. Thank you to all those who have read, commented and supported this endeavor over the last year. I appreciate that. I hope I’ve made you laugh, cry and think some at least once.
Some days I loved it, some days I hated it. Some days it was a chore, some days it was special. Some days it caused trouble, some days it hurt. Some days just were there. Many days it was just a stage where I performed what I thought the audience wanted to see. How much of me was in there is hard to say. I suppose it was all me whether it was all true or not.
I think perhaps the biggest thing I learned is that I’m not a real writer. What I mean by that is, I don’t have the passion, and/or talent that I see in other writers I know. I may have some imaginative abilities and can sometimes string together a well put phrase, but it isn’t enough, I don’t have it. You know, it. When you see an actor or singer, or a piece of art, etc., and you know they have it. You can’t define it, it’s just there or it’s not.
In the beginning I said that I was a writer just because I wrote, but I don’t think that’s true anymore. You need it inside of you as well. It’s a huge ocean of writers out there, and I don’t want to drown in it, which is what it felt like. I’d rather just dangle my feet over the edge, and watch the sunset.
As for my writing future, who knows. We’ll just wait and see what happens.
Slice challenge complete.