I was doing this thing where I was writing a bunch of stories. Three a week, in fact. I made it slightly longer than two weeks before I stopped. I ended with seven stories. Appropriate, perhaps, but…also coincidence.
The thing is, I didn’t stop because it was too hard. I didn’t stop because I couldn’t keep up, because I can’t write that much, because I didn’t have any ideas.
I stopped because it was too easy. This…is good to know. I thought I had lost the ability to sit down and just write a story, but I haven’t. Not at all. For the kinds of stories very much in my wheelhouse–weird little high-concept slices of whatever that suggest larger worlds and stories beneath their depths–I can do it. I can do that all day.
I just don’t really want to. That is exactly not the kind of story I’m interested in writing right now. And that’s the kind of story I end up with when I try to just pump them out. I tried a few more character-interaction oriented stories, and those are definitely the weakest of the bunch. That’s where I need to put the work in, and I can’t do that at these kinds of speeds.
I’m still writing. I’ve been writing quite a bit. I just don’t have anything I can post. These are snippets, ideas, experiments. Valuable to me but perhaps not interesting to anyone else. Or at least, not anything I’m comfortable sharing with the world. Or my little patch of it, anyway.
But I don’t want to lose my momentum. People seem to like when I write stuff. Not that many of you, but…man, is it wonderful. Very validating. So I’m going to post more. Thoughts and ideas and whatnot, and some stories. I’m also planning on formalizing it and setting goals, because I do find that very motivating.