It’s been a bit since my latest posts. Short-writes, those vague things that could be poems, ramblings about my writing journey. I’ve been busy having a perpetual existential crisis–and getting this novel off the ground. Glass Halos, Paper Crowns is the first novel that I’ve posted chapter-by-chapter, or serialized, for people to read. I always thought I would write the whole thing and then release my story into the wild. Well, that was a great idea, but I struggled with finishing it. I had plenty invested in this novel, and I wanted people to care about my characters (almost) as much as I do. But I couldn’t do that if I never put the story out there.
The weeks leading up to posting the first chapter, I had your standard worry-fest. What if no one reads it? What if people do read it? What if people love it? What if people hate it? What if people think I’m a terrible person because of what happens in the story? What if I never finish this???
It seemed much better to stop while I was ahead. More often than not, any efforts to share my writing feel meaningless and futile. Why should anyone read my work? Who’s to say that it’s any good? I have this dream that I will write stories and characters that resonate with readers; that in the end, they can walk away with a measure of hope. I also have an intense fear that nothing I write makes sense.
This is pointless, I tell myself–often while doing it anyway. Working on another chapter, outlining a project, re-designing my blog, starting another art project. In the grand scheme of things, maybe it won’t matter to anyone else. Maybe this is just how I stay alive.
This Saturday, the second chapter of GHPC will be free on my Patreon. The first three chapters will be public–which hopefully is enough to get you intrigued so that you decide to support me on Patreon. If not, that’s okay. You can always wait until I publish the hard copy…whenever that will be. (My guess is some time in 2023. No promises though.)
Although launching GHPC has kept me busy these past few months, I’ve still got plenty of work cut out for me. Am I thinking of another short story anthology? Yes. Am I (still) working on that whole art thing? Yes. Slowly. Am I worried about whether or not I’m doing this right? Yes. Constantly. Am I giving up? Never.
I might be perpetually anxious, I might feel invisible and inconsequential, I might severely underestimate my impact in whatever scheme of chaos, space, and time that interrupts my existence–but I’m going to write anyway.
V. H. King's Ink 