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not all “ah..ha” moments are necessarily fun

Today, I realized that The Big Muckle, which was fun to write, was not the direction in which my talents lie.  It’s too fluffy and light and just surface skims.  It was a relief not to have to dive deep, find the core of things, but it is no good.  I have decided to toss the (I was going to say “book” but caught myself) manuscript.  Reel for a few days, with the disappointment and slight feeling of foolishness that I wasted all that time.  And when I have recuperated then I’ll get started on something else.

K.C. Dyer (a YA novelist, Seeds of Time, Ms. Zephyr’s Notebook)  Wrote today and asked if I would do the Surrey International Writers Conference again next fall, so that will be fun.

Some days though, I wonder if I should be a writer.  I wonder if I have anything worth saying.  What am I going to write next?  Is it going to suck too?  Why am I writing?  Spending all these hours sitting in front of a computer screen.  And even when I’m not in front of a computer screen, the writing is still following me around like…I was going to say a mildewed sweater, but I think that is how I’m feeling right now.  Sometimes the smell of the stories that follow me around are the aroma of fresh baked gingersnap cookies floating out of a neighbour’s window.  I guess that still how I feel.  Like all the good stuff is flowing out of everybody else’s fingers and I am hungry and standing out in the parking lot trying to fill up on illusion.  Nothing concrete. 

I don’t think I’m a very good writer.  I don’t know if I will ever be.