It's only day number two, but I think my plan for more frequent blogging will actually work.
I glanced over at my planner and really considered skipping over the whole 'write blog' thing, and immediately upon crossing this notion, I began feeling unproductive and kind of dirty.
Right now I am reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman and, though the story floats in an out of realism and fantasy, it got me thinking that I might have it in me to be a fiction writer.
I generally stay away from fiction. I come from a journalistic writing background, my zine stories are all truths, and when I would formerly be prompted to make an attempt at a fiction work, I would always shudder. But each and every time, something would happen.
I would immediately start thinking up these characters. I would come up with pasts about each character that I would never have the space to fill to their full potential within the parameters of a short story. I would want to write details about the places, about the way things looked. But for whatever reason, I approached the task always with feelings of imminent doom and dread.
Maybe I'm getting to a point in my life where it's okay to hone my craft in a different way. This notion could be in part due to the large sum of academic writing that I'm doing, but it could also mean that my mind is starting to work in different ways.
Either way, the outlet sounds like a good one.
I think I might start with outlining characters. I used to sit around in public places and people watch, writing down things that pissed me off, intrigued me, made me smile, made me sad--humanity at work, more or less.
Maybe looking over these old notes would inspire me.
Maybe this is just another one of those lofty endeavors that I won't follow through with.
Either way, it's an interesting thought to ponder and it would be a good way to challenge myself.
And I'm always up for a challenge.