Struggling
Well, here is an unexpected source of both pride and frustration. The coordinator and leader of our Writers' Group gave me the honour of asking me to be one of a dozen members to write an historical article for a local chain of small newspapers. I have been on my own writing journey for so short a time so, you can bet I view it as an honour and a compliment. Of course I said 'yes' - some combination of ego, anxiety and ambition.
Now that I have been trying to do this thing (no pressure, oh no) I find myself struggling to produce anything anyone would want to read. Or even get my arms around the scope of material to cover in up to 500 words. Or, more specifically, to find a way into the story that I am satisfied with.
It is, to say the least, preoccupying much of the time. This way or that way. Maybe I could try this. No, that doesn't work. Ho hum how ordinary that way would be. Where's the joy? Where's the sparkle? Where's the simple target of just writing something someone will happen upon, read, and say to themselves, "I'm glad I read that."
It's due in three days. I have written one sentence I feel OK about. Whoopee.
1 Comments:
When I worked for a small paper, I'd ask myself what was the one thing about this yarn that intrigued me most. I'd try to spin the first sentence into an interesting declaration of personal fascination and just let it rip.......
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