It's time to get serious, or, "The life of a real, actual writer."

“Writers write while dreamers procrastinate. ” ― Besa Kosova

There is an old adage which states: "Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach." While I'm sure this is certainly true, I can't help but take this quote and make it appropriate for my writing life in the past year: "Those that can, do. Those that can, but don't, never learn."

This has been the case for me. As an aspiring writer, I have reading from many sources about ways in which I can become better at my new-found craft. Resoundingly, the advice given is to "write, and keep writing." Unfortunately, I didn't follow this advice very well of late. I made the mistake of reading over my previous writing and saw it for the sophomoric effort that it was. My first book effort, entitled "In God's Own Words," was an idea I attempted unsuccessfully to bring to life. The story was an interesting one where Aliens are discovered to believe in God, and what happens after that. There was never a successful conclusion (you should read that as, "I never finished the novel") for several reasons:

The story became uninteresting

This was a hard one to accept, but the story just frankly wasn't that exciting. I made some memorable characters, and they did interesting things, but in the end the world in which they lived was one that no one would care about. I know this because I found that *I* didn't care about it. I realized that if I, the world's creator, didn't care what happened, how could I expect the reader to care? Answer: I couldn't.

The story precedence was clichèd.

The original idea was the typical "Alien Autopsy" thing, where a couple of doctors are brought in to save the lives of two aliens who crash-landed (this time in the 80s instead of the 40s). I thought I could get away with this since the action afterwards was so different, but in the end, it was still an alien crash-landing. Again, BORING.

Momentum was lost

At one point in writing the novel, I became stuck. I knew what I wanted to happen, but I could find no way to make it happen without sounding hacked and, again, clichèd. Ideas of secret agencies, fundamentalist churches, lone antagonist on a desperate search to find answers... all of it had been done, and done well by those much more qualified to write than I am. I felt like the story wasn't adding anything new to the mix. Once I got to that point, I couldn't go further.

Editing before its time: The ultimate book killer!

Since I couldn't go forward, I went backward. I read the chapters I had written, and I noticed how infantile my writing was. I had learned so much since I first put digital pen to digital paper! I read over my work and recognized it for what it was: A fleeting attempt at a first try. This was the final straw. The story just wouldn't be told, or at least, not yet. I may still yet re-visit Jennifer and her adventures, if for no other reason than to get the story out of my head for my own personal gain and enjoyment. For now, it goes into the vaunted writer's chest, to gather dust and bide its time.

So, there I was. And there I stayed, for the better part of a year, I became a non-writer. Life got in the way, work time began to leak into personal time. We moved to the wonderful world of Orlando, Florida. Other things became important. Some of them were even warranted. But still, I had that urge to write. I don't think it ever really went away, not that I expected it to. I was reminded again and again about another story I had once worked on. The story kept coming back to me, and soon, it nagged enough at me that I felt I had to continue work on it. That work is named "Godswar."
Godswar began as a D&D campaign I ran several people through back in 2010. Using "Old School" rules, I let the characters tell the tale of a story I had in my mind for some time. The story is actually a pretty good one, as good D&D campaigns are wont to create. I've begun work on it again, and it's feeling very, very good! I'm excited again, about my writing. I'm discovering that what I write is now readable, and that's a good thing. Whether it's good enough to be published, well, that remains to be seen. But at this point, I don't think it really matters. It's a story that I'm dying to tell, and it will be told.

For now, that's enough.