Real Time

I just finished a story. It's one of the longer ones I've written in a while, but I'm really happy with it. The ending isn't a shocker like some of the one's I've written, but none the less, I like it plenty.

I've decided that whenever I'm not actively working on a story, which might be one day a week, or every day for a few weeks, I'm going to actively blog. I need to get my thoughts out on all of this, and I need to be regular with it. In twenty years, or whenever the fuck the break through happens, I want to be able to look back. I want to look back and remember the pain that it took to get there. I want remember that it was all worth it.

Maybe that doesn't make total sense, but I guess that doesn't really matter right now either.

I start editing the story tomorrow. I hate the thought of editing- despise it. But still, when I get to it, my mind turns into a shark. I love it. I smell the blood of the words that shouldn't be there, and relish in the words that should. It lets me use the logical part of my brain; the part my mother always references when she says "You should be a lawyer" and yadda yadda yadda.

My goal: get published in a semi pro market. 

It'll happen within the next year. No doubt. Easily.

My friend called my writing career in a 'mild beginning'. I'm being published twice in the next three months, and I thought his words were so appropriate. So fucking true. We all start somewhere, in whatever field we choose. So here's to mild beginnings and the futures they lead to.