Dead on the line

I don’t do deadlines; not any more.

Oh, I did. For years I lived in that stress-world, and I didn’t miss any.

My only pseudo-deadline, currently, is a self-imposed one. I’m learning to write, right? I have no idea how to judge the point at which I’ve “arrived” at that goal.

I mean, I’m publishing, right here—but in the eyes of most of the world, that’s ‘unpublished’. The followers aren’t flocking in or anything, I’m not heavily marketing the blog in the social-media approved manner. Not trying to turn a blog into a cash machine. The majority of the planet remains blissfully unaware of my (and this site’s) existence. Not chasing any awards or magazines or anything,  not “getting the word out”. DP doesn’t even offer the minor publicity-lite that was once afforded by pingbacks any more.

New followers have nearly evaporated, as a result. I’m still invisible to Google, of course.

So nope. I’m just doing a little writing here, for the pleasure of it. Wishing I had more time off, to do more of it.

But it will be likely years before I grow big enough cojones to call myself “a writer”.

Someone call and let me know when I get there, okay?

What’s your next, most pressing deadline? Are you excited, stressed, or ambivalent about it? What’s the first thing you’d like to do once you’re done with it?

Update: Welcome back, pingbacks!

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