Or…I’m not even sure.
I guess I’m going to do this steam of conscious thing. No real headings or chapters or breaks. Just write whatever. No rules. That’ll be a nice change. 🙂
I decided a long time ago I wanted to be a writer. Or maybe writing claimed me. I’m not sure. Even though I was a late reader, I wanted to write. I made up stories like no other. Just ask my mom! 🙂
I decided a couple years ago that writers don’t really have a choice in the matter. Sure, we don’t have to write the stories down, but they’re going to come anyway. They’re a part of ancient tradition. In the olden days people sat around fires and listened to the story tellers. My ancestors from Norway, Finland and Sweden definitely had a story-teller or two in the bunch. Today, it’s the paperback writer that keeps the tradition alive. Not that I’m dissing literary fiction. My MA’s in English. I love literature. But the stories that live on are the ones about people, heroes and villains so wonderful or evil they transcend time. Some of those stories exist in “literati”, but most exist elsewhere.
My goal when I sit down to write a story isn’t so grand as that of my ancestor story-teller. I don’t want my story to grow over time until it’s known by one word, one name. I simply want to create real people. Heroes we can love. Heroines we can all wish to be.
I’m going to forget all the “rules” and just write.
That’s how I started eight years ago. Then I started “learning” and guess what? My level of success is still exactly the same. I get requests. I get requests for revisions. I get rejections. The rules haven’t changed that. So I’m going back to writing my stories my way. We’ll see what happens.