u/MelodramaticQuarter

No excuses. No more getting distracted by this idea or that idea. No more putting it off, saying I'll make it up tomorrow.

I'm GOING to finish this book. And I'm going to publish it.

Whenever I have a new idea for an epic fantasy adventure or a dystopian post-earth psych-thriller- - document, spend no more than a day on it, go back to your main project.

A thousand words a day. Two-thousand.

Things are starting to feel more real now. Maybe I CAN do this. Maybe I can just... write my book. Finish something for once in my life. Get the idea out of my head so I can finally think about something different.

Wish me luck.

Or maybe this time, discipline will be enough.

I'm a good writer. I know I am. Plenty of non-biased sources have confirmed this over the years. And I don't have any doubt that my writing is atleast passable. Besides, even if it wasn't, it's my favorite creative hobby, so I have no intentions of stopping. I write a lot of "dark" books - crime, psychological thrillers, stories that explore beauty in darkness and the strange. I also write a lot of dystopian sci-fi, which heavily incorporates those themes as well. Nothing extremely crude or taboo, but they're not exactly feel-good summer reads.

The problem is, no one around me has an interest in reading my writing. Like... at all.

My mom only likes period dramas and fluff pieces (nothing "scary"), my best friend only reads NSFW romance novels -- even my husband says it's "not his thing". He hasn't expressed interest in a single one of my projects. Not one.

It hurts. I know my writing isn't bad, but why won't anyone support me? You're telling me you don't even want to help me brainstorm? Won't read a chapter or two just to tell me if I'm on track? I get it's not your favorite genre but I feel like I'm on an island, and it's easy to get discouraged.

I feel like it's been like that my whole life, honestly. When I was growing up my mom hated how much time I spent writing instead of having "normal" hobbies (like boys and partying). I had an English teacher who told me to keep writing no matter what, but she died my senior year of high school. The irony kills me.

A lot of bad shit has happened in my life and writing is/was how I worked through it. And I'm GOING to finish this book, so help me God. I deserve to see it through to the end.

I know I'm not entitled to anyones support but... it would be nice, I guess. I just wish someone gave a shit enough to want to share my world.