secrets

I prefer my privacy and close friends, not large crowds and a name splashed for many to see. Facebook is a trial to me (as I've mentioned before) and the idea that my blog could be found by people who scarcely know me is debilitating (and by the nature of this post itself, doubly so).

And yet, I am typically an open faced person with little left to secrecy. Lying is a pet peeve of mine and I feel my thoughts are an open book, written upon my face. As such, I frequently feel compelled to explain myself, leaving little mystery behind. (Of course, I've learned there can be quite a difference between telling someone what is going on externally versus internally; depends on the circumstance. It's an art, my friends.)

Oddly, those two aspects of who I am both go together and also repel one another. Forthrightness is much simpler with circumstance as opposed to intent. I don't mind babbling on and on about car repairs that have me stressed out and being worn out from hard months of homeschooling - those are my circumstance. But my feelings and dreams are much harder to admit aloud. Matters of the heart are far more personal.

I have wanted to share a secret for a while. But it's hard because it's my heart. It's something I'm doing, my outlet, my dream. Tending my dream is the easy part (some days anyhow); the hard part is admitting it to others. And yet that's why I'm posting today.

I'm writing a book.

Admitting it to those not already privy to the story has been a challenge to me, colored by a million different crayons....just a few of those colors:

• I'm probably not that amazing of a novelist; it's just a dream of mine and I'm overdue to follow it.
• I'm content writing and never publishing, though that bug is starting to bite me a little.
• Having someone read my book who knows me, but doesn't know me well, terrifies me - I'm not worried that they'll think I'm a poor writer; I'm afraid of the opinions they will create, the impressions my book would leave about me, based on what I choose to write.  

Truly? I love my story. And I'm working at not caring what someone else might think of it (an author on a writing blog I frequent mentioned needing tough skin....so I'm trying to grow some). I've sworn for nearly 20 years that if ever I happened to publish I would use a pseudonym. And I still might. But I'm working to not have a secret life and be open faced about my dream and what I'm doing. Of course, if it sits in my laptop forever more, unloved by the published world, I suppose none of this will be an issue.

I'm more than halfway through my first draft. I will finish it - of that I am sure. I am already anticipating my second draft and how much better it will be by then. I'm also beginning to see the seeds of another story pushing out from this one.

I've taken steps like joining a writer's association and following a few writing blogs. I can assure you they captivate me far more than the ones on parenting (I learned to throw out most of what I read on that topic long ago!), and even homeschooling.  I'm nervously considering attending a conference next year as well. This desire to write has pushed me for years. Now it's spilled onto paper and I cannot get enough.

The bottom line - I'm writing.
I am following my dreams.
(Whew....secret told.)