On Writing

December 7, 2007 - 1am

As a bit of an aside from the two stories I’ve posted here recently–I want to make something clear.

First off, I have no illusions about the quality of my writing. I know it’s nothing special, and I’m fine with that. What I’ve posted here are the equivalents of an artist’s doodle, minor things scrawled in margins.

I know I’m not a great writer, and I don’t aspire to be. I’m not looking to be the next Faulkner, or Hemingway, or (god forbid) Shakespeare. Nothing I write will ever be studied in a literature class or change anyone’s life.

If I can be a one-off Stephen King or Chuck Palahniuk, I would be thrilled. If I can publish a single novel–the sort of thing you read in two lazy vacation days, then never think about again–I’ll be very satisfied.

That’s not really so much to hope for, is it?

Commenting validates my miserable existence.

3 Comments

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  1. Have you thought of a pen name yet?

    Comment by Christine — December 7, 2007

  2. I admire your writing for what its is worth.

    Comment by Jeremy — December 12, 2007

  3. Thanks. I appreciate that.

    Comment by marc — December 12, 2007

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