First of all, thanks so much to all of you who responded to my pity party with support! It was much needed and also much appreciated. I’m honestly still amazed that people I know regularly read my blog and even more blown away that people I’ve never met pay attention.
After my whining session I did not flog myself or churn out 10 pages of anything. I did, however, write something. I’ve been toying with the idea of flash fiction for awhile now, but I always thought it was just a cop out for people who didn’t want to sit long enough to put something together. I’ve recently read some really lovely pieces of flash fiction (check out Flash Fiction Online this piece is especially wonderful) and since I don’t have the time to sit down and put something together I figured I’d give it a go.
What I ended up with was a 645-word version of a story I’ve been working on for years. I’m still fond of the longer version, but this one says more in less words. At least, I think it does. I mean, it could honestly be a flaming pile of crap. I’m terrified to let anyone read it.
I think I was very traumatized by all the workshopping one has to go through to obtain a degree in creative writing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s immensely helpful, useful, and skin-thickening. But people can be mean and you start to doubt your own work. Now I feel like a piece that hasn’t been workshopped must be a flaming pile of crap because no one has pointed out all of the awful parts to me so that I can c
ompletely change it into a different story properly edit.
Ok, now that I’m back from that tangent…I am SO glad that I just put something, anything, down. I’m glad that I chose to do a very short story because having something actually done feels amazing. It feels like getting through a great yoga class or running that extra few steps and it makes me want to do more. Amazing, right?