I have always made up stories, ever since I could remember. All my life the spinning of tales has been about one thing: me. An escape from the real world, something fun and relaxing. When I had to clean my room or I couldn't come out, I pretended I was Cinderella. When we moved to a new house and my room had a huge mural with a rainbow on one wall, I remember pretending I was a Care Bear because they could ride rainbows and I so wanted to climb that rainbow to see where it went.
Over the past year since publishing Creole Escape, I have have had plenty of new ideas come to me, but have struggled to flesh them out. In the past month since publishing Waking Up, I have struggled to find the inspiration to really sit down and work on any one story.
I have at least thirty story lines that I have started but lately I just cant figure out where to go with them.
This morning I was reading a writing blog when i had an epiphany: I am no longer writing for myself. My writing has another audience: you, the readers! This may seem like a no-brainer and of course I realized I was writing for you, but I never realized that that could also mean that I had to write something that goes against the grain. Something that I would really have to sit down and mull over to make certain I got it right. Something that isn't about just doing what I please.
It doesn't mean that I love writing any less. It is an integral part of who I am and always will be. It just means that I have to take a step back and rethink the way I have always written, and then revise it to meet the expectations of the most important person: you, the reader.
It may not seem like a big thing but after 30+ years of pretending to please myself, I have a feeling that I have a lot of work ahead.
And I'm looking forward to it.
