Friday, February 10, 2012

It's all about me - apparently. I've decided to write a memoir. Not really for publishing - I don't presume to think the public is that interested in my life. But it's been gnawing at me for months and to the point where I cannot seem to write anything else. I spent weeks outlining another story - even drew out a map for the world - but I cannot write a damn thing for it. This memoir business keeps pulling at me. I'm hoping it'll be therapeutic as well, or at least not damaging. I don't know how to write something like this - how to outline it or what order to go in or anything like that - but I know that it needs to be done and I hope, really hope that once it is I'll be able to actually write something else. It seems silly to be consumed by the idea of a writing project that isn't fiction - or at least someone else's biography. It feels selfish to devote the time and energy to writing about myself and my life. It doesn't surprise me to feel that way - I'm not really into feeling that I'm worth the time and energy of other people - I suppose I shouldn't be worth my own time as well. But in the hopes that it will be helpful - to shut up the voice in my head, to get writing again and to maybe release (or silence) some ghosts - I'd like to actually, finally do it.

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