So I’ve been experiencing this itching. To dig up my long buried stories. Give breath to them once more. Like here, but not here. On another blog. (Cuz I really need another blog to hibernate from).
I’ve given up the dream of selling my writing. At least right now. Right now, I can’t justify it. Too much time lost. No financial stability from it. I’ve beaten to death this point. But I want to have them somewhere. Just to have them out of me. I wrote so many. And a great many that I never subbed enough. And then my beloved Duotrope marketplace started charging, a premium I couldn’t justify. In all my years as a ‘successful’ (using this term so very, very loosely here! LOL!) published writer, I made, ho hum, $95 I believe. And the first few I didn’t even bank my $15 cheques because I wanted to frame them. Proof I’d sold a story. It was so HUGE (using this term ever looser! LOLZ!) I have an outdated spreadsheet, and then I left it all by the wayside. Last straw was the Duotrope premium, but even then, I knew I’d already abandoned the pursuit. I couldn’t justify it financially, mentally.
My brain also doesn’t work so great in words these days. There, I’ve said it. I blame pregnancy, breastfeeding, another pregnancy whilst still bf’ing, tandem bf’ing, and clonazepam (to temper a bout of postpartum panic disorder and hormone surge from bf’ing). I just can’t put things together like I could. I can’t hold onto memories. It took me 10 minutes of searching google to remember Duotrope! A virtual space I spent 5 straight years in, EVERY day! But I couldn’t remember the name of. SEE!? How can I hold onto shorter stories, much less longer ones, if I can’t remember a simple website name. Pregnancy brain, Momma brain, it’s real! And I want to hold onto important things. Memories of my kids’ funny turns of phrases.
This is all one long rambling justification for why I abandoned all pursuits. When the TL:DR of it is I just stopped. Period. And I feel the itching again to throw it up. I’m over wanting to be paid for it. I could care less about that. I know words pay for shit. So I just want to do something with it. Like we eventually gave our puzzles away, because we WANTED to. Even if the market wasn’t there for it. I want to do this too. With my stories. With all of them. Even the ones that did appear once. Or are saved in a print edition I keep on my shelf, for my kids to see one day, should they ever care. Not at the expense of taking my time away from my actual professional pursuits here, of course. But just when I can.
So what do you think, blogosphere? Do you think anyone even reads anything anymore? I also could go off on a diatribe about that too, but I’ll leave that in my head for the moment.
If I do, it’ll be in this space. But I’ll heads up before as this space is mighty dusty.