Watering entries are personal diaries, alluding to this post's conclusion. They are a potpourri of recent thoughts and experiences (one might even call them a blog, if one were to be so common), published when I have no other projects to work on, in order to ensure I've written something for the day.
The culmination of a month spent rolling downhill has come. I hope, at least. I operate a new computer, built myself. I am an editor for Flixist. My videogame website, The Player Character, is, nominally, alive.
I understand what is meant by responsibility, now. When will I find time for anything now that I have so many things to write? The buffer between my next Player Character column and now will never be thick enough.
Traffic bothers me more than I'd anticipated. I don't need to monetize my site or expect a cumshaw from each visitor, but I want to imagine that people will read it. I don't know how to begin that. I suppose it's not meant to be a simple nut to crack. Rebel Yell will sit comfortably at four approvals on N4G.
To think of when I had just started writing Seasonal Lag, less than two months ago, and my brain had atrophied to the point that its seventeen hundred words were so daunting that they took me weeks. Writing every day may have diminished the quality of my prose, I admit - I play too fast, too loose now, knowing that I'll always have something else, of greater importance, tomorrow. Or later that day. I would like to believe that even though I've become less meticulous, my average quality of writing has improved. Can't say for certain. What I do know is that my confidence has dropped today. Days like these can offer some real perspective.
I remember when everything of mine was poured into video editing; when I could point to my music videos as what I was proudest to have produced. Perspective came to those too, eventually. I am friends with one of the most talented editors I've seen and know by name others who outclass me enormously. I can't isolate what separates me from them. Natural talent has never meant much to me, as a concept. I've never known anyone who lucked into skill. Perhaps I'm right in thinking I've developed greater forbearance since the height of my editing, which will pay creative dividends in the future when I return to it. Perhaps I'm wrong, but the only way to alleviate such anxiety to finally start.
But heavens, when will I find the time?
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