Ever since I was little, I’ve loved stories. Now, I didn’t say I loved reading… Although, reading is usually the way to absorb stories. And since most of the time, I was bored of someone else’s ramblings, I have been a writer.
I’m not saying that I’m perfect, because I’m a realist and I know myself. I just think that sometimes, I have a story worth telling. (Of course, the same attitude comes from others… Nobody wants to read my ramblings.)
I’ve only let a handful of folks read my work. I have my cheerleader, who basically seems to love everything I toss at her. There’s one or two others that take it and think it could be better. (My grounders)… Then there are strangers who seem to like my stuff, even though I think it’s crap. (Not sure what to call these guys, though I appreciate the props.)
I guess, if you let fear run your life, you’ll never share your work for fear of ridicule. But there are tons of published authors out there, who have written less than stellar works and they are either loved or hated. They don’t seem to care… So why should I?
There’s always going to be someone who doesn’t like your voice… But then, there will be just as many, if not more who do. Isn’t it worth the chance to reach those people and entertain them for a little bit? I think so.
So, I’m working on a story that I hope to put up on Inkitt. I’m really looking forward to it. But currently, I’m in the throes of my vomit draft. It’s coming along, but not as quickly as I had hoped.
Who knows, it might get some attention… Positive attention… And perhaps, it’ll go somewhere. 🤞