My second day of writing is going a bit better, although my fingers are still not exactly blazing over the keyboard. Today I am trying to emulate one of my favorite authors, Sir Terry Pratchett. Not only does Sir Terry keep writing in circumstances that would give anyone else an acute case of self-pity, but also he manages to keep a sense of humor in both his writing and his outlook.
I, OTOH, take both myself and my writing too darn seriously all too often. One of my goals for this month is to lighten up. I am not writing a textbook on brain surgery, here. It is science fiction, or fantasy. Escapist entertainment. The world will not collapse if I don’t finish, nor will World Peace and Ecological Goodness break out if I do. When I finish, and when I publish, the best result is that readers will get a break from whatever they need a break from, maybe a laugh or a good cry, and maybe an interesting thought or two will cross their brains. The worst is that they will delete my e-book with prejudice, ask for a refund, and maybe write a nasty review.
It’s not rocket science. I’ve done rocket science and this ain’t it. So why am I so terrified?