Sometimes the lines of reason get blurred.
When we first set out on a creative journey our goals aren't all that lofty. Most writers are simply answering a call, addressing a need to release a story trapped deep inside themselves. Fast forward through the romance of the first draft to the reality of the completed product and somewhere along the way, something goes missing:
Reason. Just cause.
The original need seems to evaporate from sight and before long you find yourself staring down the loaded gun of want. And along with want comes desperation. A consuming desire to see our books do well. A silent competition with the hoards of other authors fleeing madly toward some magic finish line - otherwise known as "success." This juxtaposition isn't as bad as the actual moment you realize it has happened. That, my friends, is a pretty sobering thing.
There comes a time in a writer's trek when it becomes not only necessary but mandatory to pause and relocate the cushy center of ourselves, the part where the creative spark was first conceived.
The heart.
This week I was honored to have a lovely reader choose my novel as one to which she would dedicate her blog. I don't really know this young woman, which makes this feature that much more relevant. For it is in this anonymity that I was able to bridge the gap between who I am as an author and who I originally set out to be - a writer who touched someone through my work.
I want to share her blog with you, as well as her choice of theme song for The Making of Nebraska Brown. (See radio on the sidebar.) I loved this for more than one reason. For all of them. For the softening of those blurred lines.
Here is a link to Diana's lovely blog called "Little Miss Drama Queen."
http://www.bloglovin.com/viewer?post=3259249177&group=0&frame_type=b&blog=5056679&frame=1&click=0&user=0
Thank you to Diana for doing this. And to any of you who may have read my words and found yourself connected to them in some small or even a profound way - I'm much obliged. These are the signs that tell me that while I may occasionally veer off course, I am still very much on the right path.
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When we first set out on a creative journey our goals aren't all that lofty. Most writers are simply answering a call, addressing a need to release a story trapped deep inside themselves. Fast forward through the romance of the first draft to the reality of the completed product and somewhere along the way, something goes missing:
Reason. Just cause.
The original need seems to evaporate from sight and before long you find yourself staring down the loaded gun of want. And along with want comes desperation. A consuming desire to see our books do well. A silent competition with the hoards of other authors fleeing madly toward some magic finish line - otherwise known as "success." This juxtaposition isn't as bad as the actual moment you realize it has happened. That, my friends, is a pretty sobering thing.
There comes a time in a writer's trek when it becomes not only necessary but mandatory to pause and relocate the cushy center of ourselves, the part where the creative spark was first conceived.
The heart.
This week I was honored to have a lovely reader choose my novel as one to which she would dedicate her blog. I don't really know this young woman, which makes this feature that much more relevant. For it is in this anonymity that I was able to bridge the gap between who I am as an author and who I originally set out to be - a writer who touched someone through my work.
I want to share her blog with you, as well as her choice of theme song for The Making of Nebraska Brown. (See radio on the sidebar.) I loved this for more than one reason. For all of them. For the softening of those blurred lines.
Here is a link to Diana's lovely blog called "Little Miss Drama Queen."
http://www.bloglovin.com/viewer?post=3259249177&group=0&frame_type=b&blog=5056679&frame=1&click=0&user=0
Thank you to Diana for doing this. And to any of you who may have read my words and found yourself connected to them in some small or even a profound way - I'm much obliged. These are the signs that tell me that while I may occasionally veer off course, I am still very much on the right path.
