A Writer's Musing: Friendly as a Fist to the Face

Urban Fantasy Novel, Redhead female smirking as she stands within a dark forest with a castle in the background
A young Katrina Estelle from Dusk into Light
Do you ever feel as if what you do or what you say is simply cast into the wind? Silent, and unheard. When that happens often enough then life starts to feel depressing. And sometimes, a person can start to wonder if their existence matters in a world that goes on regardless of whether you're there or not.

Though, that's not what this entry is truly about or if there's even a point to what I'm about to type.

 No Rhyme or Reason to Feeling


I think not feeling as if I have a place in this world is why I try hard to find out who I am. Its one of the reasons why I love to create in some form. A drawing, a photo manipulation, or even a Daz3D render here or there. Writing is a form of art too. I've met so many talented, amazing authors both indie and published. They write for various reasons, none of them wrong or right. I'm lucky to get a chance to know them even just a little bit. But lately I've started getting too full of myself by thinking that I might belong with other indie writers.When I honestly don't.

Why do I try to write? I don't know if there's an answer to that question. For myself, I think I mostly want someone out there to know that I exist. To use it as another outlet that helps me cope with a lot of stuff that's happened in my life. Difficulties that have to be met head on otherwise it overwhelms you completely. You know, drab heavy stuff that no one likes to read so I'll move on from there.

Dark Fantasy Artwork, A Shadowy Wraith holds a gleaming sword within ancient ruins
Sword Wraith. Hm, I need to model a more darker sword next time
So I rewrote my supposed serial into one story. Tried to make it more alike other stories. Without over the top quirks or fight scenes that should probably belong in a comic book. Well, that's what I was told at any rate. To slow down my writing and not overwhelm readers with everything at once. Apologies to anyone that read it. I didn't mean to waste your time. Well, I don't think anyone really read either of the two stories though honestly. Which is okay. It was probably way too weird.



Romantic Fantasy Novel, A She-wolf stands within a castle and a tornado rages in the background
Acalia Iztchel, my latina little red riding hood

Though I loved that story so dearly. It wasn't a first draft, or even the twentieth draft. I had so much more to tell within that magical realm ruled by legends too. It hurts that I'm not good enough to share it properly. I'm just not sure anymore of what to do with this newer version. The rewrite is there but its just sitting on my PC. Unedited, and without a beautiful cover. Somehow it feels like that despite the happy end it's not the real story. But I'll figure this all out eventually. Maybe.

Now I keep thinking, write faster and better. No more detailed fight scenes that take long chapters. No more over the top magic or whimsy that should belong in an anime. Grow up, mature that prose. It just feels so different. Am I on the right path? After all, I'm just a nobody trying to figure out how to make my own mark in this world. But it does seem like I'm trying hard to change everything about me so I can fit in better. Hunh, kinda like being in junior high all over again.

Who knows, but I'll probably keep trying until I either stop deluding myself or eventually get it right. Though these days I think though the latter is wishful thinking. If Acalia was real, she'd most likely smile at me and say: "You're such a puppy." And I'd probably agree.

- Wendy May


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