The moment I finally find time for myself — a quiet Saturday morning, a husband still asleep, a rare weekend of no real plans — I think about what it is I want to say, but I want nothing to do with my computer. And so I don’t read, and I don’t write.
I interviewed Sarah Menkedick, writer and founder of Vela Magazine, over on Longreads.
After watching Boyhood, I wonder if I’ve been looking at it all wrong. Perhaps there are no versions, but just me. And maybe that shift could help me get excited about writing again, to push me to create new stories — ones that don’t exist in a vault.
I’ve paralyzed myself as a result, and created a visual space that accommodates just one mode — a single version of me. I’ve left little room for experimentation; I’ve promised a certain experience for my readers. Or maybe this is all in my head, and I overthink things.
Maybe I just need to shut up and write.
You can create your own profile on Medium and Hi and Exposure. But there’s an element of renting out space on these platforms, and I’m reminded of the loft my husband and I just moved out of — one unit within a huge, impersonal condo complex — and our quest to create the exact home we want.
How raw and honest can the writing in this journal be, then, when I’m already editing for public consumption? If I’m always looking outward, and now view writing and publishing as the same thing?