Standing at the edge looking up and down . . . what do I see?
Living on borrowed time.
Rushed and exhausted.
Working for what? Working for that?
Yeah, I'm talking about this writing thing.
This is for those of you who read this blog and who follow my writing. I don't keep tab who reads this. I really don't want to care but I have to care because if I don't care I get left behind. I have to care because most everybody else doesn't.
I did not start writing to make money or build a career or (kill me now) create a brand. I started writing because I needed to write.
I've done it long enough in a certain way and enough is enough.
I'm ending the madness and starting anew. I really am.
I'm not going to tell you why and how and when and what because that tells you too much. One of these days, I won't even be writing on this blog. I'll just be writing and letting my writing speak for itself. Whether I have releases coming out every few months or few years or never.
Our twins turned one on September 3 and I realized that my entire freaking world shifted when they were born. It was still about me before I saw their precious little faces but no more. Things have changed inside of me in ways I don't want to share. I'm not exactly sure if I could share them. I just know that I'm a different man than I was a year ago.
In regards to this writing thing . . . well, I've been at a crossroads for a while. I'm still at the crossroads. It's not just because I'm one of the many authors trying to break through. It's not just that. It's many things.
I look at the results.
Then I look at the expectations.
I look at the possibilities.
Then I look at the realizations.
I stand looking up and looking down and wondering which way to go.
I no longer want to write for me. I no longer need to write for me. For better or probably for worse, I've gotten that out of my system. 40 was the novel that did that. But it's not just that. It's not just the twins. It's other stuff that is none of your business.
So why are you blogging about it then Travis, huh?
Because I know there are those of you who care about what I do. I know because you've told me.
I share this because I feel like I'm on the verge of something spectacular. When I say that, I don't think of dollar signs or bestseller lists. I think of stories. I have worked my tail off these past four years on these stories in my head.
I'm ready to start writing for you.
That's not some marketing phrase some self-absorbed novelist says to sound deep and touching. Oh, I'm self-absorbed, trust me. But I'm serious.
I'm done with analyzing myself. I'm over myself.
There are bigger stories left to tell and I'm ready to tell them.
It's time to prove to the publishers and the world that I can succeed doing this thing I'm doing.
Then again, I might not have the time or the energy to do what I want to do.
There are days when I think I'm tapped out. I give a chunk of my heart and soul to these stories and get a whole world full of ambivilence.
Who's to blame? I blame myself because ultimately, a story needs to stand on its own.
I don't know how much time I have left. How many stories I'm able to tell. How long I can do this.
But I will share this after today's planning.
My plans are more outrageous than they were four or eight or ten years ago. I have better stories and better abilities and better drive than I've ever had. I feel like everything is clicking and I just need time in order to succeed.
We're not promised tomorrow, right?
And my number one priority is this family full of pink. These ladies who trust on me.
I've told enough stories so if I simply tell a few more and that's it, oh well.
No, that's crap. It's not oh well. I'm always going to be writing.
And I'm telling you this. If you've reached this end of this rambling slightly sickening blog that I'll probably delete like many others of this sort, I'll share a secret with you.
The fog has lifted and it's time to seriously get to work.
The maps are in place.
The names and the faces are right there waiting to be used.
The stories are simply waiting.
I just pray that I'll have time to tell them.
Only God can answer that one.
Labels: Ramblings, the future