I have this problem where I believe that most of the things I’ve put on my blog is worthy of deletion. I have very little confidence that it’s anything interesting, and I am pleasantly surprised at how many people like the posts and are following me.
I find it very hard to not delete posts, I feel very tempted to delete one or two poems and the Kithara story because I don’t think Kithara is going anywhere, even though I do have a game plan for her.
I also feel that some of my personal stuff should also be deleted, yet, I feel that my readers should know me.
This has been my problem my whole life. I’ve never approached a publisher because I don’t feel I am any good; also I never wanted fame, I am not saying I am fame reaching nowadays, not at all, but I am more comfortable in people knowing me now, because I am more confident in myself generally.
I know a lot of writers aren’t famous, yet they’ve probably done more work than the big pots. I am also smart enough to realize that writing and being published doesn’t mean you’ll have a stable income, I write for pleasure, I want people to read my stuff, I want people to enjoy my stuff and if I am going to be completely honest with you – I write what I want to read and what I would like to see on the television. Silly I know, but that’s my fuel.
Now you’re probably thinking that there isn’t much need for televised poetry, well, I know this blog concentrates mostly on my poetry, but, as a rule, I write epic sized novels and series type books because I never know when to shut up, basically.
In the past I’ve been known to write a lot, and I mean a lot! I used to write enough to pile up knee high every three months on average, the amount of work I wrote, but – because I don’t feel I am good enough, I used to have regular bonfires! SHOCK HORROR!
That depresses me, because there’s many stories I flung into the flames of hell, that I wished I kept, because actually, thinking back, they were quite good. Thing is, I forgot most of what I wrote, ha-ha.
I’m a nightmare.
Thing is, I am in the situation of having very supportive friends and family these days, family as in my husband’s side of the family, not my own. So, instead of having my regular bonfires, I am now considered a paper hoarder and it’s driving me nuts.
I have an old cot that used to belong to my son, it is the paper holder these days, in a disorganized filing system (if that’s what I can call it) it’s overflowing, I promised myself to sort through it all and try filing it properly, but to be honest, that will take me a few years. Gosh, I can’t believe I am admitting this so publicly. Well anyway, I am in the terrible situation that I’ve been told at the end of July one of my husband’s nieces need to move in with us and needs that room, so GAH!
I feel tempted to light the flames of hell again, but my husband is the knight on guard duty for my work, so it seems.
Anyway, I decided that I will try and squeeze all of that work onto the computer somehow and whatever I write from now onwards will be stored on memory sticks and only printed when I need to read it out loud to someone. The idea is giving me headaches.
So that is a little journey into my never-so-spotless-mind.