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Friday, November 15, 2013

Midnight Confession

Okay, it's time for me to confess to all of you who truly write to feed your soul, or your heart, or whatever body part forces you to write, I don't write to feed my soul. I don't even know what that means. Shocking, I know, but it's the truth. 

My revelation begs the question: than why do I write? Why do I put myself through the emotional ups and downs of writing? I wish I knew. Most of my friends don't write and love me despite my canceling lunches and dinners with them because I'm right in the middle of a revision that I know will excite one and all, and agents anxious to represent me will fall at my feet and plead with me to choose them. 
We love your book.

I know, I know. My fancy has wandered down that impossible primrose path from which all of us who write traipse along. Always hoping, hoping, hoping that this time it will be real, it will be perfect, and it will sell. I'm lucky enough to have two books being published - one under my name (Turned On) and one under a pen name not to be revealed here.

So, for all of you who wax poetically about how writing feeds your soul - I commend you even though I am not one of you. And for all of you who, like me, don't experience such uplifting and noble needs to write, those of you, who like me, aren't exactly sure why you write, but think it's because you want others to read your stuff - I feel your pain. We can't clutch our hearts and sigh and be all noble. Nay, all we can do is smile and admit the truth. 

The cold, unvarnished, inescapable truth - we write with the hopes others will read it and enjoy it. We write because deep inside we yearn to transport our readers to other worlds just like so many of our favorite books have done to us. I want someone to read my book and for a little moment forget where he or she currently is, forget the problems, the kids, the work, the everything and simply become a part of the world I've spent months or years setting down for them.

That is all. And that is why I write. And that is why most of you write. Which is enough. 

As I thought about confessing, I ran across this song. I hope you take a minute and enjoy this old song. I did.

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