on writing fiction and my newfound knowledge on why it is so difficult - for me, at least.

     Halloooo!!! I'm here. :) Lots of stuff is happening in my life. Maybe I'll post about it. Maybe I won't. But I have something very specific to share with you tonight.

     I love writing fiction. I have never finished a novel. Sometimes most of the time I don't even have a plot.

     And I compare myself.

Why can't I weave a plot like J.K. Rowling?!

Why can't I add natural, exquisite, raw art to my work like John Green?!

Why can't I connect to real life like C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, Veronica Roth,  et cetera?!

     BECAUSE, SARAH. You aren't J.K. Rowling. You aren't John Green. You aren't Lewis, Tolkien, Roth, et cetera.

     But you are you, and you have a story to tell.

Tonight I realized (maybe for the millionth time, but they hit me hard tonight) two things.

ONE that my story doesn't have to be a brilliant display of life and death, pain and joy, internal struggle and outward battles, villains and heroes; whether that takes place in fantasy or real, rawwww life. I can write a cheesy, heartwarming Christmas story if I want to. But what makes it awesome is that I can add ME to it.

that leads me to TWO my story is my writing. My work. So I really shouldn't second-guess myself when I type out a sentence, thinking, "is that the best possible wording? Does that sound weird or corny? Could my vocabulary be more varied? Why is the main character so normal? Why isn't he/she having an existential crisis?"

And all that crap.

So I'm signing off now to go write some more, in the freedom of those two things.

(Also I initially typed "freekdom" instead of freedom and I thought it was funnier than I probably should have.)

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