“Any writer worth his salt writes to please himself…It’s a self-exploratory operation that is endless. An exorcism of not necessarily his demon, but of his divine discontent.” ― Harper Lee
Every writers deepest desire is publication. The dream of seeing your writing on a website or in print to be read and, hopefully enjoyed, by readers around the world. Vindication. That’s what DLBurton called it. Vindication. Not necessarily towards anyone else but for the hours spent behind a keyboard punching in words, then deleting, then more until the recipe is right. Vindication for every eye roll and “Oh, you’re a writer” comment. Above all, vindication for the poison of self-doubt that sucks the life from the marrow of our existence.
My first published short story was released this weekend. You can read it here http://www.thewritemag.com/2012/08/falling-snow/ . Be sure to read the others stories too. I especially liked Tabula Rasa by Brian J. Robinson and John “Tubby” Stover by Arthur Davis.
Funny thing about being published, besides the feeling of vindication, is the overwhelming sense of nakedness. A friend said she felt like a voyeur reading “The Pattern of Snow”. While the story is fiction, I understand why because the feelings are all very real to me. I think that’s how a good story should make the reader feel. Like a voyeur peeking into someone else’s life. Reading should be the ability to walk in someone else’s shoes for a period of time. It’s the singular greatest asset we have toward compassion. Without understanding, there can be no compassion, leaving only room for hate and disgust.
Right now, I’m going to revel in my first publication, though shameless self-advertising is much like I’d imagine wearing a jock strap, bulky and ill-fitting. This is the most you’ll hear from me. Stop by and read my first published short story at http://www.thewritemag.com/. Enjoy it. And feel free to leave comments.
Whew. I’ll go back to writing, thank you. Less like a jock strap, more like a pair of cozy pajama pants. And I’ll put away that vile of self-doubt for a while.