Location: The saggy but well-traveled couch in my living room, currently shared with a three-legged Siamese cat from Arkansas and a goldendoodle who lunges instead of walks and enjoys burping in human’s faces while making uncomfortably close eye contact with them.
Time and time again, I’ve been encouraged to “develop my writer’s platform” by creating and maintaining a blog & Twitter.
Time and time again, I’ve tried to get this thing going, but then I feel like a narcissist and abandon the whole thing. What do I write about in this thing? Who even cares? Shouldn’t I be doing something more productive, like exercise?
But no, no, I shouldn’t be doing exercise. A lot has changed, once again, since I last wrote in here. The last 15 months has been the most productive writing period of my life, and I have a few quality short stories to show for it, one published, and one nearly-completed draft of a novel (plus another that’s been shelved, but I’ll get to that someday. maybe). This novel is one that I started three years ago then abandoned during one of my “everything is useless and I am nobody” phases, but I’ve been working hard to quell my nihilism and have produced quite a lot as a result.
So now this blog will take a different turn, especially since I can no longer use the subtitle “The ramblings of the unpublished” BECAUSE I’M PUBLISHED, SON. I’d rather focus on the process of finishing, revising, and submitting a finished novel to agents. I expected it to be a painful process, but also thrilling since I’ve never been this close to finishing something so big before. This feels bigger than my 13 years of public school, 4 years of college, 1 intensive year of graduate school, and all of my working years since. Even bigger than the dog sharing the couch with me, mounting my $50 Crate&Barrel pillow.
This week I’m on winter vacation from school, and this week I’m finishing a shitty first draft of a novel that I care very much about.