I’ll be 45 in about three weeks.
That means if I hope to write 98 best sellers I need to stop writing posts about how sock monkeys have more writing talent than most bloggers and start writing novels.
The link in the post above goes to one of my other blogs, TheJackb. That has been where I have focused most of my attention.
This joint you are currently hanging out in is where I house most of my fiction. I have written hundreds of thousands of words but I haven’t been good about trying to really turn them into a book.
There should be enough material here to do so but I haven’t focused upon it the way I should, at least if I truly want to turn these stories into something more.
Some of it is because part of me looks at these pieces and rolls his eyes. The post underneath this is about 2k words or so but every time I look at it I cringe.
It feels awkward and stilted.
But you can’t write stories by refusing to put pen paper. You can’t take words and turn them into a tale without putting them together on paper and asking someone to read them.
I don’t know why I haven’t pushed harder to turn at least one of these threads into a full blown story. Could be fear, could be something else.
Ultimately it doesn’t matter why because as Master Yoda says there is no try. It is all about do or do not.
So the objective now is to move past do to done.