For weeks, I've been struggling to create an online presence that takes a step beyond the 280 character playground of Twitter and the easy thumbs-up life on Facebook posts. And why is that?
I've got nothing to say about myself.
Two months ago, I completed a novel that is now out on submission. At 82,000 words, it has plenty to say. My characters have well-formed thoughts and plans in their well-described heads. They can tell you exactly what they think of themselves and their fellow players. As the artist of their fictional lives, I know everything about them. But when it comes to putting words and catch-phrases out there about myself, I simply stumble and shrug.
Maybe it's my age. When I began reading, the only information available about an author was on the dust jacket or, if they were famous enough, in a magazine or encyclopedia. If I loved a story, it was for the writing alone. I didn't need to know anything about who wrote it. When the internet came, and the ability to dig into a person's life was easier than going to a library, or calling a well-educated friend, I often found myself—well, disappointed.
I suppose I'm one of those readers who expects authors to look—and live—like the characters who inspire me. That's pretty shallow. And pretty impossible at times. I know that. So, maybe it's this goal of a one-hundred percent perfect picture that had me hedging. When I was twenty-three, I wouldn't have minded the photo comparisons. Now, forty-years later, I do.
Today is the day I've vowed to change all that. I may or may not become a published author. Finishing a book, and being blessed to have a wonderful agent doesn't always guarantee that one's name and photo gets placed on a dust jacket, or even a postage stamp sized picture slapped on the end cover of a paperback. However, I have found within me a need to share my writing journey, and hear from others who are traveling that same road.
It's time to have something to say. Here's to words and dreams.