I've been in a writing funk. Let's be honest, you, no one at all reading this, as my Confessor. I'm not for sure what it is. I may have an inkling of an idea. Ideas. That's all I have anymore. Someone I really respect once called me an IDEA GUY--the last thing a writer ever wants to hear. An IDEA GUY can't write. Sure, he can think of cool shit, just can't put it to paper. The old saying, put up or shut up comes to mind.
I started two stories. One, an intimate portrait of a man on his deathbed being tended to by two enemies--a true story. The other, a freaking love story! I was in something akin to love once a couple months back. Ended in disaster.
Here's the thing (I hate that empty saying): I'm distracted in my "single" days, I'm not confident right now, I'm writing with the thought that it'll never see the light of day, I'm writing with disappointment in most of my former publications which (take a breath for this long sentence), which...I took like a writer whore. I accepted publication from magazines I don't even admit to. E-zines mostly. Sure, I turned them down before (well, once). So I'm all out of sorts. Ironically, the IDEA MAN, is grappling for any idea to get him going again. Someone has recently been kind enough to read some of this stuff that may never see the light of idea and give comments on it. Much appreciation. Maybe this will get me revving again. Besides, I have a lot of ideas.