The first time I sat down with the intent to write a book, I learned a valuable lesson within the first couple months. The more I work alone without reading or speaking to other writers, the better I think I am… and the worse I get.
Let me try that again. Writing is funny business. There’s a whole world of people to love and places to explore in my head, but the reality of it is I’m sitting alone in front of a computer for six hours and I’m still in my bathrobe… and I haven’t eaten… since… Well lunch, yesterday.
Praise God for husbands who come home determined to give me a good ‘airing out’. Where would I be if I didn’t talk with real people once in a while or watch a real sunset?
Beyond that, I’m learning more and more each day that my novel needs a good ‘airing out’ as well. Without new perspectives from other writers, my writing gets cramped and repetitive. Eventually I suspect, even the best of us loose the ability to pull ourselves away from the text, far enough to see what needs fixing.
It gets worse. Not only am I blind to the technical errors, I start to believe that I’m better than I am. (Usually a good dose of Poe clears that up.)
Now I get to the point. (See, I’m not just rambling!) I’ve finally found a writer’s group! Yea! Real people, real lives, real words.
Hehe… I know that last bit was over-the-top cheesy. Sorry couldn’t help it. Now I shall leave this cursed machine and go live with real people and breathe real air. I might just have some real fun while I’m at it!