Where I came from and Where I’m Going

The last few days have found me engrossed in the various resources collected by Ancestry.com. I’ve been figuring out who I am, which is funny, because in the past I didn’t think about it much. Lately, I have been. It might have something to do with the leap I’m about to take.

And, it is a leap. I’ve realized that I need more reliable friends, or friends with more time. Probably both. The ones that I’ve felt would give me honest feedback on my work have failed time and again to actually provide any. They give a long list of excuses, and I understand personal things coming up, but for fuck’s sake, how hard is it to just get something done?

Rhetorical question, mind you. I don’t really want to know the answer.

Or, maybe I do. It surprises me the most from people who want to work in a creative field, the ones that want to freelance. They’re called deadlines. When I send you something a month before hand, I kinda thought maybe it would be read. When someone hounds me until I give them a copy of my manuscript, I expect that they want to read it enough to, you know, read it.

I’m sure other people run into these problems and when you’re starting out it’s hard to find that reliable beta reader. I thought I might have had one, but alas, I was wrong once more, and I value my relationship too much to ever ask my boyfriend to be a beta reader. It’s the same reason I haven’t asked certain friends. I don’t want to get mad at them over something small like their criticism of my word choices.

So, I’ve been a bit down about my choice to be a writer and not quite putting the effort in that I should. That needs to turn around, and fast. I think I might be able to afford myself one more night of mucking about on a website to understand who I am and where I came from. I already know that I had ancestors who left Germany right around the beginning of World War II. If they can take a leap of faith, then I can too.

It’s not the same as running for my life, but it is something scary. And, I know the problems with beta readers and all the other shit will straighten themselves out. I just need to stick with it.

I love writing. I love telling stories. Why would I ever want to not do this wonderful thing. I can take people to other places, other times. Who knows, maybe I’ll decide to write some historical fiction, or do more research and figure out exactly what my family went through on their way out of Germany. I’m sure someone out there would be interested.

Until then, I’m going to work on my zombie build up. I reworked the beginning and I like it much better this time around. The characters are going to be… fun. Very fun. I can’t wait to get 20,000 words in and see what happens between them.


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