The Newness Obsession

I've never been good at keeping a journal.

When I was younger, I would always get new journals, and add one or two "Dear Diary" entries--just like little girls in books and TV always did--put the journal aside, and forget about it.

Sometimes, blogging goes the same way. I start a new blog. I add an entry or two, realize no one in their right mind is reading it (apologies to the two of you who are following my other blog), and delete it.

I always start a new blog.

See, I have a newness obsession, and it doesn't stop with journals and blogging. I replace notebooks with too much scribbled in them. I can't stand using an old notebook. Trees should hiss and spit at me when I walk through the forest. I like getting new pens. An old pen that wrote smoothly yesterday can suddenly seem scratchy, and I get the itch for something new. A new color. Gel instead of ballpoint. And occasionally, I'll get a hankering for a mechanical pencil.

I've even been known to buy a new computer when I have the money. There's rarely a problem with the current computer, I just feel the need for something new.

I'm worse than a self-absorbed millionaire cycling through trophy wives.

My worst offense in the quest for newness is in writing. It hits me hard, somewhere in the midst of the Great Swampy Middle.

A new character with an interesting story will whisper to my muse.

A new world with interesting new places to explore will appear to me.

A new plot, with surprising twists and exciting developments will hit me over the head and scream at me to write it.

It's always just an idea. Never anything fully fledged that requires my immediate attention. Something for the next, far off novel. And yet I grab onto it, a flimsy excuse to stop writing and go back to dreaming. A chance to do something new.

I realized recently that it isn't newness that I want. Desire isn't controlling my actions. Well, okay, desire and newness may motivate my consumerism, but when it comes to my writing I'm like that trophy wife hunting millionaire. I'm afraid.

My current story, like his current wife, is good. I like it. Probably even love it. And yellow-bellied coward that I am, that terrifies me. I'm putting all of my energy into a project that could fail. My story might not sell. To make it work, I have to expose a deep, private piece of myself to someone, an agent, an editor, *gulp* an audience. That is the most terrifying thing anyone could ever do.

My newness obsession allows me to avoid the hurt of rejection. Unfortunately, if I don't learn to deal with my fear, to face it, to overcome it, I'll never know success either. Every time I stop writing a project, I'm rejecting myself.

That is the first thing any new writer needs to learn. Forget being able to tell a _good_ story. The first thing you need to do is complete a story. Rinse and repeat. If you keep writing, and editing, the good stuff will come. But an unfinished story will never be a good story.

And as for the abandoned blog, I like this one. I think I'll stick around for a while.