I’m Just Here for the Margaritas
Three-hundred and eighty-six. That’s a lot.
And the that is the number of stories I’ve written and published on Medium since 2019.
But I go in fits and starts and the writers’ discipline I’ve heard so much about seems to have skipped me.
I go a bit wild when I think of a good story. Oh, okay, any story.
I stop whatever thing I am doing and take off to my computer. Then I spill word after word onto my screen until I feel a stopping point.
Then I try to edit the mess. But I’m not very good at it and a lot of stupid stuff makes it to the published version. Oh, well, shoot me. It’s not as if I’m really being paid for the work anyway. And I don’t care about that.
I decided long ago that I’m not going to be Medium-famous or make thousands of dollars or anything like that and whatever I do here on this platform will be just for satisfaction — my own.
I write for the fun of it. Isn’t that the best we can do? At least it is for me because I’m undisciplined, write only when I feel like it, and write whatever I want with little consideration for what my readers want. Sometimes I go on break from writing for a week or more and say not one word into the Medium machine.
No stories, no pennies.
But I am glad, really, that this platform has taught me that the only real success I have is the satisfaction of publishing my work — whenever I wish.
Unedited though it may be. (yeah, that’s a sentence fragment). Listen though, I do try to edit my work. But I never see the stuff that I should have cut or fixed until I hit publish. I’m not trying to impress anyone here and a lot of my long-time readers probably sigh and say it’s a good thing. Because I would fail.
I’m just writing these days for the sheer joy of writing and don’t give a diddly damn whether anyone likes it or whether it is popular on the platform. Expect to see more of that foolishness from me.