It’s a standard problem on Friday, it seems, to want to be anywhere else, focused on anything else, than on the work day at the regular job. Go figure, that’s where my head is now. I’ve got a couple of things on my mind.
The first is tonight’s performance of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra. They’ll be performing Antonín Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8. I’ve got a soft spot for Dvořák, but I’ve yet to hear him performed live. Looking forward to this. Performances like this are always so inspiring.
Which leads me to the other distraction in my head. I’m inspired lately to write. Not blogging, but actual story writing. Storytelling. I go through these ebb and flow cycles where something like this will call to me like a siren and push me to borderline obsession… for about a week and a half. Those who know me will recognize this familiar refrain. I swear I’m my own worst enemy. I actually blame NaNoWriMo for this. I’m not participating this year, but I’ve done so off and on in years past. Success or not, it’s a rewarding experience. This year I’m thinking of something else. I’m wondering if I actually have the creativity and the personal drive to hammer out something I’m actually proud of for purposes of publication. I realize that self-marketing is something I’d have to learn, and being a skill like any other, I can learn it. And much like the skill of writing, it’s something I’ll be continually improving upon. The thing is, I’m such an introverted person that crossing that line over to public persona for marketing purposes scares the living daylights out of me. That fear paralyzes me to the point of not writing. Case in point, I’ve got the SEO options on this website minimized so that site engine web crawlers will be discouraged from boosting my internet presence. It probably doesn’t even slow them down, and fear is such an unquantifiable, irrational thing anyway. As with real life, the idea of an intimate number of friends appeals to me on the net. It’s astounding to me to think I can step up into battle with a sword in my hand against someone similarly armed, knowing I’ll be knocked about, but being out in the public eye on some level is beyond unthinkable. As Frank Herbert says in Dune, “Fear is the mind-killer.”
And that’s the reason I keep coming back to this. A part of me keeps thinking I need to face that fear, write something specifically intended to see the wider world, and then push it out there. If nothing else, the experience of it would force me to grow and evolve in ways I can’t really imagine now. It would “unstick” me from my comfort zone and eliminate a great many excuses.
Of course, I’d have to write something first, the very act of which would simply override everything else in order to concentrate on story and character. Is there anything more intimidating than a blank page? Perhaps only the Squirrel of Judgment, which in this case is probably not such a bad thing.