Welcome to Blinking Blue Line
Or, why I decided to start a fiction blog after taking a years-long hiatus from writing fiction
I’m glad you’re here!
I think.
Writing fiction has been in my blood since a young age. I still have, buried somewhere in my parents’ house, the orange spiral-bound notebook that houses my first novel. It’s called Sara Sage; it’s about 30 (small) pages long; and it’s absolutely not a Harry Potter knock-off. Frankly, I’m offended that you would even suggest such a thing. All the character are named after my friends from third grade, and it remains an unfinished masterpiece. A true tragedy, in my opinion.
As I got older, I continued to write and daydream stories. I proudly called myself a writer.
When I got to high school, I decided to participate in National Novel Writing Month, and the first time I did so, I finished - I wrote 50,000 words in 30 days. Over the course of the next few months, I wrapped up the first draft, edited it, and self-published with Lulu exclusively so that I could get the free proof copy offered as a winner’s prize. The book became available on Amazon by default, and while I secretly hoped I would become a millionare, I never actually expected to make anything. But, six years later, Amazon sent me a check for $6, which did nothing but make filing my taxes more complicated. Honestly, I’d rather not have gotten the check… but c’est la vie.
I never finished another story.
Over the years, I drifted away from writing first chapters, and then from even cultivating story ideas at all.
I set myself up for a sequel in that NaNoWriMo novel (even going so far as to map out a tentative plot), and my 15-year-old brother has been begging me to write it for probably the last eight years. But I never even wanted to look at the book again, let alone reread it or re-enter that world to continue the story. When, in 2016, my friend (soon to be boyfriend, now husband) showed up at my door with a copy of the book, which he and several other friends had annotated, I realized that there was a lot of unresolved insecurity and shame about the novel I’d written. Things I wished I’d done better, both in the novel itself and in the way I went about writing it. Angst about the plot, or the characters, or the (lack of) actual high-level editing. Contradicting fears that I was spending too much time staring at my screen and that I was never going to finish the story. While it felt nice (albeit uncomfortable) to know that my friends had taken the time to read what I’d written, I told myself that their opinions “didn’t count” because their affection for me would cloud their judgement of the story. I told myself that, in spite of the fact I’d written a novel, I wasn’t a writer. I shouldn’t keep writing.
And so I didn’t.
I jokingly say in my tagline that I started this newsletter because
told me to. Actually, it’s really not even a joke - I wanted to participate in // write along with the Gibberish challenge, and didn’t want to post fiction on my other Substack, . Thus, Blinking Blue Line was born. But in a lot of ways, I credit my willingness to try my hand at fiction-writing again to this platform, to folks like and , who are writing and sharing and asking for feedback instead of giving victory to the voice of shame or self-criticism. It’s incredibly inspiring to be surrounded by folks who are doing it, who are writing and reveling in the joy of writing. It’s also been an unbelievably fun experience to read serialized stories with a community, to share the affection for characters, the anticipation of the next installment, and the (often outlandish) predictions of what’s coming next. It’s like a book club, but more fun because the author is there dropping hints and laughing with you and goading you on. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.Blinking Blue Line is named after, you guessed it, the cursor on your standard word processor. (Although, I’m noticing as I type this, here on Substack the line is black.) Depending on my mood and attitude, that blinking blue line is a taunt or an invitation. If I’m feeling shy, scared, insecure, or uncertain, every time that line flashes, it seems to increase both my insecurity and my hesitance to type another word. But if I’m feeling confident, inspired, or curious, it beckons me deeper into the story unfolding before me, often without my conscious creation.
Blinking Blue Line is my choice to respond to that invitation and pursue confidence, inspiration, and curiosity. It’s a taking-back-of-ground in my head and my heart, an act of hope and healing and victory. An embrace of the imperfect and a statement of openness to feedback and critique for the sake of growth.
So welcome to Blinking Blue Line! I think that I’m very glad you’re here.