Okay, everyone--thanks!

I'm going to take the link down now. (If anyone comes in later and wants to chime in, feel free to check my LJ [pix_kristin]. It's friendslocked, so you'll have to let me friend you.)

Kristen, just saw the pictures and left comments on LJ. But wow. Gorgeous.

Also, the cover of my new poetry chapbook is up:

[link]

Looks nice, victor.

Looks nice, victor.

Thanks. The overall look of this one--cover, layout, etc.--is probably my favorite out of all eight of 'em.

My point about the joy of the instant validation of fanfic is that you don't have to wonder "Can I write? Do I suck?" Someone will tell you.

Ah, that's a different animal entirely - no argument at all. Your post didn't read that way to me, though. But why trust the opinions of the readers of your fanfic more than you would trust the opinions of people reading your original stuff? Or is that a misconception? I regularly hand my original stuff out for beta-reading with wild abandon, and it never even occurs to me to have anyone beta my fanfic, so I'm 180 on that one, and I'm curious.

Kristin, I think I need to eat dinner before I look at pics.

Karl, your drabble gave me a shiver, because I wonder that, too.

This is kind of not a drabble, but it's what came to mind. David Simon still likes carrots, btw.

Five Things I Know About Falling

1. A bullet won’t really knock you flat. If you don’t know you’ve been hit, you’re likely to keep walking.(Well, not me, most people though.)

2. I’ve fallen in love about six times this year. Have not “closed the deal” with any of them. At least they all know I’m alive, except the two fictional ones.

3. I frequently have dreams where I just fall for the whole thing.

4. If you fall in a parking lot, you can get a scar on your wrist that can make clipboard bearing strangers think you used to cut yourself. They don’t exactly believe your “fell at Blockbuster a long time ago,” story either.

5. The average non- Buffista can fall asleep in twenty minutes. Buffistas generally take longer

Been away; catching up. I like you guys.

I am Susan, and Sail, and Cindy! Wow. I'm all over the place. Susan, I've had that epiphany, too. I've always been good at everything I did, without half trying - or else I just don't do it. In my head, one is either good at something, or not; learning and practicing and putting in time to get better, why would anyone do that for something they weren't good at? The idea of learning to be good at something, no matter whether you were good from the get-go, is a fairly new one for me. And I think I get what you mean by "worthy". For me, at least, it relates to my need to validate my existence by getting validation from others on things that I do. (Yeah, I know how self-destructive this is. I'm getting it under control.) So, I write when people tell me I'm good at it. To write just because I want to, with no expectation of making money, well, I've always been told that was a frivolous waste of time. (I'm getting over that one, too.) I think I'm in a similar place as Sail, as I haven't written anything seriously in nearly 20 years - maybe never, if "serious" means "with dedication and discipline", and not "looking to be published". I'm winging it. Like Cindy said, I'm not sure I can be arsed to be the best I can be. Or maybe I'm just afraid the best I can be won't be good enough, so why bother.

And I'm taking what deb and victor and all said about validation, and the real reason to write, to heart. You're all quite right. When I say "won't be good enough," I have to stop myself and ask, good enough for what? Because publication has never been my real goal. So what is? Why should I write down these stories that are all comfortably complete in my head? Why should I bother?

Well, for the love of it. For the joy of it. For that reason, or not at all. I think that's really the only good reason for doing anything.

Except cleaning cat boxes.

Zenkitty, when I was in middle and high school, and writing my "stories" in my school notebooks, my mother told me I was "wasting" paper and ink. It took me literally decades to get over that, and to feel it was okay to "waste" not only time but paper--and not only paper, but to actually buy special notebooks to write in, and bottles of ink in special colors just for writing.

Take that, stoopid internal critic.