For a long time, now, I’ve tried to convince myself to start and maintain a blog centered around my writing. A few attempts have arisen and, subsequently, crumbled over the years, but as the pressing desire to write full-time begins to bear down upon me in full-force, I feel I can’t avoid it any longer.
Nothing good has ever just fallen into my lap– over the course of my whole life, the best things have been the products of hard work, dedication, trial and error. I’ve skirted by long enough doing just the bare minimum, writing for myself until boredom or fear sweeps the creative endeavor away. And this is how I’ve held “good” jobs that have simply left me wanting at every turn. It’s not enough for me to make rent, or just to have medical benefits. I don’t want to waste away, twiddling my thumbs in front of a computer screen, dusting shelves when all other tasks have been done. I don’t want to die wishing I had tried harder to publish Relic, or lamenting that I never fully finished Port. I don’t want to fall asleep each night exhausted by the monotony of my workday. I don’t want to answer someone else’s phone with, “How may I help you?”
I want to answer the inquiries of the world that way. I want to see the looming trends, talk with a real audience, connect with humans who actually feel and think rather than desire and consume.
If I don’t dive in, if I don’t give it my all, I will never see the end result I so desire.
So this is the beginning.
As of last week, I’ve started actively pursuing a career path to help me achieve my own end. I’d rather write freelance from home while simultaneously working on my own novels and poetry than continue to surround myself with books serving no purpose for me or the patrons we cater to.
If making an impact is truly what I want, I might as well start with myself.
In addition to being a storehouse for my ambling thoughts and advertisement for my work and the works of my collaborators, I want this blog to serve as a bridge between myself and other writers, other readers, other avid learners, teachers, literature appreciators.
After all, it’s not what you know, but who.
And I promise, you’ll be glad to know me.