I'll keep this short and brief as it is almost midnight, and I wasn't planning to write anything tonight, but I find myself strangely drawn to this blogging thing. I think that I'm actually starting to like this. For real.
I'm drawn in, seduced, knowing that I'm not alone, that there are 8 million other women doing this. 8 Million! (That is if we are to believe the Barnard magazine which I read cover to cover yesterday.)
I think it's starting to feel good because I am doing everything I can to put myself out there, while I'm waiting for EDGES to come out December 7th, while I'm waiting to hear about my second novel, (working title) GOD IN YOUR FACE that FSG has had for six months, while I'm stuck in the middle of my third (companion book to EDGES).
It feels good NOT to over-work and over-think something, to not edit and revise ad nauseum, to POST as it were and know that a few people might read, might relate, or not . . . there's the freedom aspect, and then there's the fear. The fear of showing myself, imperfect writer, warts and all.
It feels good to know that if I fail, it won't be because I didn't blog. :-) It won't be because I didn't use Facebook. (heh, heh)
I have to put myself out there, and I keep hearing my grandmother's voice telling me, if you aren't free to fail, then you are not really free. Thanks Gran.