Stories from a life in progress.


I feel like I'm going to pop.

How long has it been since I posted a personal piece of writing?  I can't even remember.  I've been writing, but decidedly not personal pieces.  I'm still working with the online media company I started writing articles for last summer, and it eats up time and it gives me some income, but it's not for me.  I feel it's not an area in which I am destined for great success, writing based on keywords and search-engine importance.  Right now though, it's all I have.

It's hard for me to measure these two things against each other and to give both equal value: the writing I do for money, with assignments set by other people, and the writing I do for myself, which I hope in some unspecified-as-yet way will lead to a better career for myself.  I don't make time for the personal writing, even if I feel (rightly or not) that it has more potential for the future and that it is what I am better at.

I think the practical upshot of what I just said is, I find it hard to value myself.

No answers today.  I don't know what to do next.  I confess that I have been demoralized for a while, wanting to move forward as a writer but with no good idea of how to do it.  I still don't have ideas, so I'm saying out loud that I wish I did.  That I feel stuck and I wish I weren't.

Maybe admitting it out loud is one tiny step toward unstuckness.  I sincerely hope so.  And if nothing else, here's a personal piece of writing at last.  Hi world; I'm still around.  I hope we will have more to say to each other soon.