It’s still officially WIP Wednesday, at least for another 8 minutes.
I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately. I read slush, work from my writer’s group, and I’m going to town on a friend’s novel, since I’m good at removing back-story with a lethal stroke of my fiery pen. I read stories that my friends write. Oh, yeah, and sometimes I even get to published books and the newspaper, but it doesn’t seem to happen very often.
And lately I’ve been doing a lot of the ticky writing things that need to be done. Thank you letters, requests for things, contracts and follow up emails. Twitter and Facebook and should I or should I not set up an account on The Haunt? Also, I am the newest member of the SFWA (woo!) and there’s a lot of emailing back and forth that went along with that.
You know what I haven’t been doing? Writing. In this writing business, I’ve been doing everything but.
I was just reading a story that my acquaintance wrote, one that is being shopped around to different magazines. It’s stunningly beautiful. It makes me stagger. I want to write something as meaningful. I want to surround myself with words, because that’s what I desire; that’s what makes me happy. The rest of this is secondary to my true love.
I am inspired.