Wednesday, 20 January 2016

Blogophilia by Sandra Horn




It’s that time of the month again...I’ve been trembling and muttering to myself for the past couple of days. Blog time. I was NEVER going to blog. Never going to sign up to Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn. Fb got me because it was the only means of communicating with an ebook provider, now defunct. I was seduced into Twitter by promises of what it would do for my profile and therefore, maybe, book sales. Ho ho ho. LinkedIn? Can’t remember. Blogging, though, and every month, at that, is part of belonging to AE and tremble and mutter though I may, I see it as a blessing. It has given me something I struggle with: discipline. Every month, whether there is a single coherent thought in my head or not, whether I’m depressed, sick, burdened, hungover, woolly-headed or not, I must write something, somehow. And not just any old thing, but something other people will read! Highly Esteemed people. Is it any wonder that I quiver and mutter? Here’s the thing, though: there’s feedback from those same H.E. people. I fall over myself to get at it on the morning of 20th and if the day ever comes when no-one has commented, I will have to fall on my sword. Comments are always kind and encouraging, but that doesn’t mean they can be dismissed as just little pats on the back. They spur me on.
There’s more. I’ve been writing picture book texts for what seems like ever. I thought I knew how to do it. Of late, however, nobody wants my stuff. Am I all washed up? It seems not. Having to write something for adults in the blog, no matter how short, has given me a push into trying other kinds of writing. Hey, I have short stories in A Flash in the Pen 1 and 2! A poem in the Emma Press Anthology of Age. The ebook site Cutalongstory has published one story, The Gracie and Bella War, rejected one (weak ending), published one for children, Naz and the Djinn.




 I’m still learning, of course. And trying again. And sending stuff out. Thank you, AE. You are, individually and severally, inspirational.

Stopping now. Stuff to write.

10 comments:

Umberto Tosi said...

What a relief! I thought I was the only one. Thank you, Sandra!

Jan Needle said...

Please don't fall on your sword, Sandra. Painful and messy, and look what it did for the Romans. Where are they now, eh? One worrying point though. You mention Flash in the Pen vol 2. I'm not the most organised person in the world (!) but I didn't even know there was a volume two. Would somebody kindly elucidate... Have I missed yet another opportunity for fame and fortune?

Penny Dolan said...

THANK YOU, Sandra, for putting your name up there with the title. That really helps, inviting me - the reader - in, although names don't head all AE posts and that slightly annoys me. (Occasionally forgetful, I can understand.)

I'm sure lots of people feel that panic, let alone the double fear of troubling comments v no comments. Blogging does help push you past that fear into real words, and I know I often read blogs - eg Dennis Hamley's post on trains - but I haven't the time or wit at that moment to comment, even when I've enjoyed the post.

Sandra Horn said...

Advice from AE was to fall on the chocolate instead, which seems like a much better idea. Jan, look at Karen's posts in AE.

Bill Kirton said...

Familiar experiences, Sandra - the need to discipline oneself (in a nice way), the knowledge that one has not only to write a post but that it's going to be read by such a perceptive mob as the AE lot, the 'what's the point? nobody reads my stuff' syndrome. Equally, though, there are the rewards, such as the wisdom on offer in the exhortation to fall on chocolate rather than a sharp point.

Reb MacRath said...

Sandra Horn, trailblazer. We don't often talk about such things--the neglected or forsaken feelings that follow our meeting a great wall of silence. It's equally hurtful when no one responds to a request for a reading/review copy. But sometimes such things can be grist for the mill. I ended up having a whale of a time with this very subject in my FIP2 story. Carry on. You're a wonderful writer.

Chris Longmuir said...

Oh my! You've just reassured me Sandra. I was in the same position this month, my brain was dead, not a thought in it, the after effects of Christmas and New Year celebrations, and the fast approaching after-Christmas dinner party I always do for the family. That means having to do the thing I avoid all year long - the dreaded house cleaning, otherwise I'm in danger of the family sending in the dirty squad. Then there's the day itself, after which I usually haven't enough energy to crawl into bed, and then the next day's rescue efforts to get everything back to normal. So where is all this leading? You've guessed it. I publish my blog on the 19th of the month, and the party was on the 17th. So, my brain scrapings are immediately below your post, and I see I've committed the cardinal sin of not putting my name at the top - I NEVER FORGET - so everything else considered, I've ruined my reputation as well as providing you with brain scrapings!

Sandra Horn said...

Thank you, you lovely lot!
Chris, your 'brain-scrapings' made a brilliant post!

Susan Price said...

Sandra and Reb - your feelings are understandable, but it's well to remember that the silence may be due to many things... Failure to put your name in the blog title box, for instance. (Penny, I have nagged and nagged...And Chris, to be fair, usually does remember) Or just to people being exhausted, over-busy, having deadlines to meet, being ill...

Fran B said...

It's just good to know that other writers struggle with feeling of inadequacy and inferiority and no-one-loves-me-I'm-a failure. January blues are among us again