In the small blessings category: I am grateful for the website where I discovered how to use a coffee mug to change A into B in less than 90 seconds. Makes breakfast (or dinner) a much less harried undertaking! (And clean-up is SO much easier than using a skillet.)
NaBloPoMo Monday, November 18, 2013
Tell us about a blog post that you didn’t publish.
I wish I had a juicy story to tell here. I don’t.
Sure, I’ve started some flash fiction pieces that fell short of my expectations and never saw the light of day. But I’ve never drafted a personal memoir or a soap-box rant then refrained from releasing it into the wild because in the narrative I may have stepped on toes or crossed some line of privacy/courtesy/respect. It’s never happened because I am so concerned with what other people think and feel that I shy away from certain topics altogether.
As a wanna-be writer, it makes me uncomfortable to know that I am censoring my thoughts, words, and ideas before they even hit the screen. I struggle between needing the freedom to tell my story, whether it be fact or fiction, in any way I choose, with respecting the feelings of those who might read my words, be they family, friends, or strangers.
Will a family member be embarrassed if I recount a funny incident from childhood?
Will friends question my morals and my sanity if I dream up a gruesome murder or a racy tryst in next week’s flash fiction piece?
Will I incite a venomous riot of hateful comments if I share my views on gun ownership or Obamacare or animal cruelty?
Will the drunken rednecks who nearly incinerated my entire street last week with their gasoline-fueled idiocy vandalize my house in retaliation if I tell the story?
Questions like these make me wonder if I wouldn’t have done better writing in a personal journal rather than publishing on a public blog. And they make me doubt my ability to ever churn out a novel.
You writers out there, how do I get to a place where I don’t give a rip about anyone else’s opinion and can just set my story free?
