Musing on Project Potential

I found the allen key for my desk chair, so now that sitting here is no longer a (quite literal) pain in my backside, I’ve been thinking about my writing projects for 2018.

I know some of you still linger here hoping for word of my fantasy series, The Redwood War, but just between us and the rest of the internet, I don’t have any motivation to work on it. I’m not saying it will remain unfinished forever; occasionally I get the itch to visit with Naomi and Arun and write a few pages. Still, it isn’t and hasn’t been my main squeeze for some time now.

The real issue is that I just can’t bring myself to write romance at the moment. I’ve always written romance, it’s been my bread and butter since my fanfiction days, but the last year or so I feel like I can’t do anything sincere with the genre. And let’s be frank, there’s plenty of insincere romance novels out there. I certainly don’t want to add to it.

I have been reading more, and of course, writing book reviews. I feel like I let this habit slip the last year, too. Again, though, as much as I’ve always written romance, I’ve always read it as well, and well… I’m just not in love with the notion of romance these days, I suppose.

The question is, where does that leave me? For most of last year, it left me in a weird sort of limbo. I kept trying to write as I always had, but not much came out. My poetry is ongoing, as always, but it’s something I write as and when the mood takes me, and those of you who’ve read it (all five of you) will know it’s all really quite sad, miserable fare. I don’t mind that, but I can’t make it a focus. I don’t want to be that “tortured poet” type, sobbing into my coffee and wearing a plaid shirt and a beanie. I like glitter too much.

No. I need something new. Something contemporary. Something humorous. Most importantly, something honest.

I do have an idea, but it’s something I’d have to handle with a great deal of care and emotional intelligence. I’d like to think these are both things I’m fairly good at, but still, it makes me a little nervous anyway. For now, I’m going to play it close to my chest, but there’s a spark of a story, guys. There’s something happening, and maybe with a little more time and thought, who knows? I might even write a first sentence.


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