Trying Again (argh)
I'm constantly giggling/rolling my eyes at myself for this: I don't blog very well.
Or, you know, at all.
I feel as though I should be blogging more. I'm a writer (reaaalllly!) Professionally speaking and passionately speaking. But I just have problems blogging about myself.
This actually dates back to childhood. I had a diary, but I was slightly sporadic about it. My Grade 3 teacher was at odds with me and my parents because the journal assignment was supposed to be giving us the chance to talk about ourselves and instead I made up stories. (My life was boring, what can I say? My mom is still rolling her eyes over the whole thing-she said the teacher should have just been happy I was writing and what I was writing was a sight more interesting than 'yesterday I went to the park. It was fun'.)
The reluctance to write about myself has continued to adulthood. Get me to write about anything from the history of silver to the best hotels in Cambodia and I'm good. Ask me to write a paragraph about myself and I will probably give you the deer in the headlights expression.
Yeah, that expression.
This means that I have a hard time with this whole blogging thing. So I'm terribly sporadic. But I keep trying! I should get brownie points for that.
Someone harass me about it. Ask me questions or something. That might work.
Books on the shelf:
Chosen, by Benedict Jacka
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Splintered by A.G. Howard
First Lord's Fury by Jim Butcher
2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson.
Manuscript headway:
Editing. O so much editing. And revising. I discovered a terrible plot hole which was so terrible that it was causing other plot holes to follow. Like earthquakes. I know how to fix it, but actually implementing the fix is another matter. le sigh.
I'm hopeful that if the job as an instructor sticks, I will be working kind of two weeks on, two weeks off thing where I teach for two weeks a month and then the other two weeks is devoted to my freelancing (er, for one client) and manuscripts. Then things will move along briskly.
Or, you know, at all.
I feel as though I should be blogging more. I'm a writer (reaaalllly!) Professionally speaking and passionately speaking. But I just have problems blogging about myself.
This actually dates back to childhood. I had a diary, but I was slightly sporadic about it. My Grade 3 teacher was at odds with me and my parents because the journal assignment was supposed to be giving us the chance to talk about ourselves and instead I made up stories. (My life was boring, what can I say? My mom is still rolling her eyes over the whole thing-she said the teacher should have just been happy I was writing and what I was writing was a sight more interesting than 'yesterday I went to the park. It was fun'.)
The reluctance to write about myself has continued to adulthood. Get me to write about anything from the history of silver to the best hotels in Cambodia and I'm good. Ask me to write a paragraph about myself and I will probably give you the deer in the headlights expression.
Yeah, that expression.
This means that I have a hard time with this whole blogging thing. So I'm terribly sporadic. But I keep trying! I should get brownie points for that.
Someone harass me about it. Ask me questions or something. That might work.
Books on the shelf:
Chosen, by Benedict Jacka
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Splintered by A.G. Howard
First Lord's Fury by Jim Butcher
2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson.
Manuscript headway:
Editing. O so much editing. And revising. I discovered a terrible plot hole which was so terrible that it was causing other plot holes to follow. Like earthquakes. I know how to fix it, but actually implementing the fix is another matter. le sigh.
I'm hopeful that if the job as an instructor sticks, I will be working kind of two weeks on, two weeks off thing where I teach for two weeks a month and then the other two weeks is devoted to my freelancing (er, for one client) and manuscripts. Then things will move along briskly.
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