I write books as my purpose, a daily practice that I have been pursuing for a while now. I don’t post excerpts because here serves as a way to sharpen the saw of my creative impulses. The books are the work, and here is where I come to play. The poems, the short pieces and book reviews are all avenues of expression for me that allow me to focus on the books themselves.
Blogging serves as immediate gratification. With a single poem, the first like lights up the attention centres in the brain like a high score on a pinball game but I still get up in the morning and carry on with the book. At the moment, I am editing one title, another is waiting for a proofread/edit and I am nearly sixty pages into the second draft of a third title. I get notes from my agent, work from their suggestions as well as continue to refine and develop the work.
Writing can be romantic, but it’s also work. When you are looking for the words that you overuse, refining sentences so that the work flows, then it’s about the work. You have to love the work because the rewards are inconsistent fuel. I’ve written pieces on here that I was really proud of, that did not warrant a like but each time I’ve gone back to the book and found sustenance from seeing the page count creep upwards. Even ending an book is bittersweet, relief and regret intermingled because you are constantly struggling with the idea that you could have done it differently. I seldom let things go before they are ready, but what ready is, depends on the work. Mostly it’s exhaustion and a sense that I am clinging that allows me to send a piece out to the agent, because you know when a piece is what it is.
Writing is cyclical, you are failing consistently, and applying the lessons to the next book. It’s not a competition with any external opponent, I write to defeat the person that I was yesterday, I write to be the best version of M B Blissett that I can be. I can’t be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood, they’re always going to be better at that than I could ever be. I’m passionate about my work, I define it as my purpose and I’ve aligned my life around it as much as possible. For all that, I never know if I’m any good at it. I’ve felt pride at the work I’ve done but the underlying fuel is to keep going, to chase the horizon and to be an amateur in a field without masters.
The work is the reward. I work towards a point where I will be making announcements and you have the option to buy something with my name on. I hope that you will, but I understand that I am one more option amongst a sea of distractions, competing for your attention. All I can do is work to make that argument through my effort and focus.
I’m on Twitter: @buddhab3lly
Thank you for reading and engaging with me on here.