When I write about writing, I immediately thereafter question everything I have written. Just the other day I wrote that perhaps I ought to cease self-publishing, if only to focus on other pursuits. But already, I'm questioning that idea. Already, I'm looking at a few stories, and thinking: I might want to self-publish this one...
That is the ridiculousness of writing about writing. I call it The Agonies. It is very common; if I weren't sure that it would more than likely incur more Agonies for both myself and others, I would dare suggest--perhaps even with gratuitous examples--that The Agonies (is? are?) basically the crux of all author-blogging. Author-blogging is, it seems to me, the activity of writing heaps and heaps of articles that ultimately read out as, "Oh man oh man oh man oh MAN what am I going to do am I doing it right is this okay OH MAN" and &c.
Sometimes, The Agonies make me wonder if there is any reason at all to be writing about writing. There are, after all, no guaranteed techniques, no certain paths. Everything is a process, an evolution; and everything that is ever written about writing must be prefaced by some sort of boilerplate like, "this is just my opinion," or, "I know everyone's different, but..." But that's what, ultimately, causes/convinces me to share my Agonies here on my blog: writing is a dialectic, and writing about writing is part of that experience. It makes me engage with myself, question what I'm doing, where I want to be, and so and so forth. Everything I publish on this blog is wrong the moment I publish it; but that doesn't make it any less worth doing.
To The Agonies, then. May we all agonize until the end of days--and may our Agonies lead to great accomplishments.