I was going to blog about the thing that's been niggling in my brain, but that can wait for another day. Instead, I found this journal entry from a little over a month ago. It's kind of raw, but I think it's, well.....real.
A bit depressed today,
about some of my writing.
I love when I open a file,
or read something over
and it's better than I remember.
I hate when I open something
and it is worse.
And the truth is...
Time gives more perspective
than anything else.
Time is the most valuable
asset in writing.
Time to do it.
Time to forget about it and let it sit.
I am so grateful for
(The line breaks above are how I wrote it...below I switched to a paragraph format.)
Usually, if a piece of writing doesn't work, it is because the voice is not right. When I start to re-read anything I have written, I should hear the voice right away, in the first few lines. If I do not, and it is awkward and clunky, it is because, (most likely) it was the wrong voice through which to tell the story.
As a storyteller, I use many voices.
True for writing as well.
Each story has the way it wants to be told...I think.
Sometimes, though, I am wrong. And, well, I feel sorry for the story, stuck in the wrong voice. It's like when you're wearing an outfit that just really isn't you. Platform boots are somebody else. So is that polyester pantsuit in a nice shade of peach. And the blouse that fits tighter than is comfortable.
So there you have it.
That's what some of my journaling is like, when I have time to journal, that is! It is good to find entries like these to remind myself to be more grateful when the writing is going well.
It doesn't always.