Storytelling Is Becoming a Royal Pain In My Ass

OH MY GOD, PEOPLE. I miss this blog. I know I've been writing poetry on the poetry blog, and I've been doing Five Star Friday every week, but my iPhoneography blog and this one have been languishing somewhat.

I've thunk lots of thoughts, but I question my storytelling every time I sit down to write.


I'm questioning everything:
  • Why is this story important to tell?
  • Why tell this story right now?
  • What parts of this story are mine to tell?
  • What parts of this story are being told with motives that lie outside this particular piece? Are any parts there simply to serve my own ego or to hurt someone?
  • Do I have the chops to tell this story well enough?
  • With the nearly infinite perspectives from which I could tell this story, why did I choose this one?
  • Am I ready to tell this story, or should I think about it some more?
I'm sitting on my hands waiting for all my words, thoughts, and heart to come into perfect alignment, and then I want all universal signs to point to Yes. I've never waited for this level of Most Awesome Perfection before, and there's no reason why I should start now.

I think I'm going through growing pains, and I don't like the discomfort. It's uncomfortable. Does anyone here have an in with the universe who can tell it I'm already tall enough, goddammit?

42/365: Fear Is the Disease

Undead Shanan