There is a story that I want to write. It’s the story that I think about when I go to bed and wait for sleep to find me. It’s the story I can’t stop thinking about.
It’s a good story. It might even be a great story.
But when I sit down to write it, I know I can’t do it justice. My skills just aren’t up to par. I realize I should try to write something else first.
So I think of another story. And I sit down to write it. And as I do so, I realize that my skills aren’t up to par. And it’s also a good story that could be great.
I do this for the next six stories.
And now I need a break. I listen to Writing Excuses. Brandon is talking about his early work and the book that would eventually become The Way of Kings, arguably one of he finest pieces of epic fantasy ever written. And I realize that I need to write my first book.
I can’t move on until I get it out of my system. I need to get it out so I can do something else.
So, I sit down to write, and I realize that I can’t do it justice…
I’ve read hundreds, if not thousands, of books. That’s not a boast; that’s the result of 30+ years of voraciously reading everything I could get my hands on.
In high school, the library was well stocked with Asimov, Heinlein, and Piers Anthony’s Xanth novels. I burned through all of those in a single semester.
The advent of the ebook was a dream come true, especially since American Samoa has no bookstores that carry novels. This is true even today.
My very first ebook reader was an iPod mini. I would carefully format text files to upload as notes. A Sapir & Murphy Destroyer novella ran to 6 files. I even read the Eye of the World on it since my mass market paperback edition was falling apart at the spine from so many re-reads.
And now that I’m actually trying to write something, there’s a tension there because I know what good writing looks like. And it’s not what I’m typing, that’s for sure.
I can barely plot out an outline without thinking of at least one novel with the same story. It’s nerve wracking.
And yet, I have an old story that I wrote in long hand that was unapologetic fanfic based on Bill Baldwin’s Helmsman Saga. It was horrible, but it was something. And it’s about 2000 words more than I have right now.
I guess I should just shut up and write.