It’s been a strange week for me and my writing addiction.
I don’t know what happened, but I suddenly took all my writing internal. I’ve put out quite a bit of material over the past few days, but with absolutely no intention of sharing it (well… yet).
Don’t know exactly why that is.
I think I just lost my patience with blogger egos, online petitions, anonymous insulters, and boring, repeated memes about how blogging is going to change the universe.
Maybe I don’t belong in the blogosphere anymore. I’ve realized that I want to be a writer first, and a blogger second.
Maybe that’s just the med withdrawal talking (it did actually get about five times worse this week, so it’s quite possible that another week or so, and I’ll be in good shape again).
Let me ask you all a question: If I went away and wrote one of the big chunks of fiction I’ve got up in my head, stopped in here every once in a while to post a little “Hey – I’m still alive” post, and then came back a few months from now, self-published, and made it available for purchase, would you consider buying it?
Or will you have forgotten by then that I ever existed?