That Time When I Had 65 Drafts

And not one of them is going anywhere.

Sigh.

I am not sure if this is a good thing or bad thing.

When I started writing, I literally threw up on every page. Line after grimy line poured from pens, pencils, and keyboards. Sometimes, I would come up for air and land in the shame of a 2,000 word blog post. But just like trying to pick the food from the juice in vomit, I could never separate the message from the madness, leaving my sparse readership with the unfair task of trying to clean up my verbal messes.

These days, my words are shorter and my posts clearer. My missives averaging a meager 600 words. I won’t lie–I am slightly freaked out. I have less to say (or maybe I have begun to find clarity?); yet at the same time, I have not figured out what kind of blog this is or what my writing mission is other than share my thoughts.

Is that bad?

Anyways, I am no closer to certainty than when I started. But I have zero idea what to do with this glut of half-finished drafts. None that I go back to seem to have a purpose or fitting ending. All I have are 65 incomplete thoughts staring at me.

Oh, and this post is literally less than 250 words.

1 Comment

  1. I know… when I first started writing again, right after Hurricane Katrina, I had some really nice, heart felt stuff, written and my old computer couldn’t handle it all and crashed and burned on me. I never thought to save it on disc.

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