It's been awhile...

... how have you been, you blog of mine? Yeah, we had a moment awhile ago. It was brief but exciting. I had such high hopes but... they were childrens fantasies. But I am back. I have had a xanga site for going on eleven years. That's pretty fricken amazing. Most people get bored with that site after maybe a year but I have been putting away on it for some time. So it basically gets all of my attention. This blog here... well it was a fling. But I feel my xanga and I have gotten... distant. We don't seem to mesh as well as we once had. I'm beginning to search outside of the relationship. So thus I return to you. I made a promise to myself that once I finished with the third Sookie Stackhouse book I would return to working on my novel The Love Immortal. It has been some time since I have worked on it. I had, again, such high hopes and even marked a day on my calendar of when I would get an agent. Sadly that day has drawn dangerously close and I have refused to even look at my manuscript for fear of returning to the wicked headspace of my inner critic. My self esteem is shot to hell. There isn't anything I really like about myself to begin with so anything I might produce doesn't reach to my expectations of what is standard. So thus my novel was one of the corpses left behind because I'm afraid of failing. And by living in that fear I am in fact failing... It's this wonderful ironic cycle I put myself in. It is almost as if I can never say I failed if I never try in the first place. But if my dream is to be a published writer then... well I have failed, haven't I? My want to return to my novel began with a camping trip. It was my friends birthday gift from her boyfriend. He had planned this elaboorate weekend. Well it wasn't as exciting as I had imagined but at some moment in the weekend we were all sitting aorund the camp fire and my friend asked about my novel. All i need is a tiny tug and the rocks that hold back the damn of my creativity gives way and everythign comes pouring out. I told her, her boyfriend, and my own about my novel. The two gents stayed silent but her enthusiasm for it ignited that desire to be published. But it was a tiny flame and barely got my pot of creativity boiling. It wasn't until I returned to the sookie stackhouse books that the process began to boil. I was reading through the rest of the first novel and was astounded that it had ever been printed. It is a mess in terms of thought and how it was written. Don't get me wrong, I adored it. The story is fantastic. But so much of it feels undone. It feels as if Charlaine Harris sits down and slams out a story without any real regard for plot or an overall story arch. It was while I was reading, thinking these very thoughts, that it occured to me that I am good at what I do. I'm not amazing and could use quite a bit of polishing but I know that I can at least do better than her. (I'm not saying she is terrible.) Well, I finished the third book and partially true to my word I pulled out the bankers box with all of my notes on my novel. I will begin to peruse them and put them into a binder so that everything makes sense and I have a full grasp of what all is taking place externally and internally in the story. I will be publishd, I promise you.