Second guesses are too late

So I started a new blog and I have doubts

I am not sure where to start but maybe let’s talk about the knot in my stomach.

I’m the kind of girl who tries to make shit happen and if nothing much is happening I try harder to make shit happen and then sometimes I forget to slow down and I don’t give my sensible parts a chance to chime in.

Usually it is 3am when they chime in and you can probably hear them too

So I found a magazine who is pixel-publishing my new stories, which I have a nice little hoard of. These stories are 800-word bombs of love and tragedy and joy and anguish and I am calling them The Story Parade and I am very fond of them mostly because they have a unique spark and they leave you feeling a certain way.

The magazine publishes a new story every week. At the end of the stories is a bio/bug in which they invited me to link my blog or website and that’s why I made a new one which is TheStoryParade.ca and there’s a link further down.

People who are reeling (I hope) from a story they just read and want more probably don’t want to read this blog, you know, it’s kind of harsh isn’t it, so I made a new site that’s softer.

Not a motherfuck in sight

Also no Daisy or shit that happens on my walks or more new shoes that I don’t like after wearing once or unpaid bills or the general untidiness of my life or other fun sweary rants.

So now I have two blogs.

Which sounds all fine until I remember that when I post a blog I become very insecure and I check readership incessantly and eat too many Smarties which may or may not be a euphemism for wine

And I also check for new subscribers all the time and this includes 3am and I know I am actually seeking validation because writing is a lonely pursuit which I sometimes fear is perceived as self-indulgent and putting something out there like 800 words of your heart and soul is fucking hard and it’s an icky no-gravity/excessive-gravity sort of feeling thinking of it just dangling in space because it’s kind of like a child or at the very least a plant you grew and plucked and gave to somebody and you’re sort of waiting for them to say nice plant or thank you or something anything and it doesn’t occur to you really that nothing is a possibility until you post.

I think that’s why I walk so hard and Smartie so hard and do everything so hard and just fucking try so hard, you know, because it’s a kind of distraction because waiting for validation is one big agony – albeit delicious in its own way

I popped the word delicious in there because it was starting to sound all bleak and it’s certainly not all bleak. There is great joy in writing and posting is also a great feeling of accomplishment because it’s difficult to write. Especially for writers. I have a quote about that which I’ll find before I’m done here.

btw still waiting to hear about the screenplay. They said they’d get back to me in November so my fingers are very crossed about that too so like I was saying it’s anxiety-inducing all this waiting for people to respond.

And it’s all self-inflicted but I don’t know how else to get my stuff out there, you know, because really for me it’s all about spreading joy, motherfuckers

Here’s my new site if you feel like reading a little bomb. You can also listen to me read the bomb if you prefer.

And think about validating – I mean SUBSCRIBING – thank you.

A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.

– Thomas Mann, Nobel Prize-winning author