The other day I told you about how I came up with the Coaldancer screen name, but I’m thinking about it again today.
Because that group of dear, close friends I mentioned (the Coaldancers!) have been encouraging me for a long time to turn the writing workshops I’ve created and refined in fire over the years into a book. I, for one reason or another, have been resisting them for an equally long time.
Well, they ganged up on me in a chat room last night (it was a little like an intervention, if you must know) and removed the last objection I was able to come up with. I still haven’t decided whether to thank them, or to be angry with them. Dancing On Coals (my title for this little tome) may just become a reality one of these days.
Am I nervous? Yes! Just as I am when I begin any new project. It doesn’t even matter that I already have more than 1500 pages of how-to-write stuff written. Any time a writer puts something out in the world where people can either find value in it or decide that it has none, it’s nerve-wracking.
Maybe other authors are made of different stuff than I am. Early in my career, I was very surprised to meet a few published authors (the first published authors I ever met) and to discover they were made of flesh and bone, just like me. If I were to find out now that everyone else is made of gold dust, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. In fact, it would pretty much reinforce those secret fears I still harbor about myself as an author.
So you might hear me talking about this project as Dancing On Coals works its way toward the light. I’ll try not to whine too much. Just remember that if this book tanks, Jo Ann owes me a Sprite.
Now I have witnesses!