I’ve noticed two things about myself. I don’t journal much, but I chat daily; and I don’t write in the traditional sense, but I post.
These are not new revelations, but I’ve been thinking more and more about them lately as I’ve sat at home alone all day, unemployed and wondering where my life is going. What it comes down to is the question of whether or not I am wasting my writing ability, letting it atrophy as I spend my time on hobbies that will never garner me recognition or validation. Whether or not, ultimately, the kind of writing I do is the best kind of writing for me to be doing.
They say that to be a successful writer, one must write something every day. I do that. But there comes a point when one must go back to what one has written and start shaping it into something whole. This, I haven’t done. My practice in school is barely a ripple in the waters. And can I truly take what I’ve done on the AMRN and fashion it into a story or novel? I don’t feel that I can, not without using the work of others…and this would make the story not my own. If it were simply a matter of collaboration, that would be one thing, but how can I possibly contact every player whose characters my characters have come in contact with and ask them for permission to use their ideas? The author list would be absurd.
I can use my characters, though, and place them into a different story entirely.
And so I’ve been struggling with whether or not I should start a project, and how my work on that project would affect my work on the AMRN. My attention would be most certainly split. Should I leave the AMRN entirely?
While I’ve been there, I’ve changed the place, made it more writing-centered. Sean opposes this new path, though I’m not sure he realizes I was the cause. He wants everyone to have character sheets with stats and for those sheets to show improvement over time. He wants the AMRN to be more of a roleplaying game. I’m sure I can’t blame him for that, because that’s what the AMRN is supposed to be. It is not a place for collaborative story-writing, even if I have pushed to transform it into such.
My choice seems obvious at this point, but I am reluctant to leave, perhaps due to all the work I’ve put in over the years. And perhaps because of all the friends I’ve made there. Maybe I can simply withdraw a little bit more, free up my attention that way, and still stick around. I get the feeling, though, that the deeper I get into my projects, the more attention they will demand.
And so I’ve been frozen with indecision. This is doing me no good.