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Do you share?  When someone asks about your writing, do you tell them? Because, if you do, they will surely want to know what your latest project is about.  And then what?  Or, do you deftly change the subject, ask about their work, hoping they will take the bait and be so happy to be the center of attention that they will forget they asked?

I’m one of those who takes the second route. You see the image above? That is my nightmare—a house, one I am in the process of building, coming undone.

I am erosion-phobic.

It’s a hard thing to be these days. Especially when so many voices in cyberspace are echoing the same piece of advice, Build Buzz. Share, share, share.

Despite the fact that the advice makes sense, whenever I have given in and shared details about a current project, I’ve lost interest in it. It’s as though the act of exposing what is internal depletes the energy, the passion I need to make it external. Worse, it weakens the ideas themselves, erodes their foundations, so that I am left with splintered fragments.

Occasionally I can salvage and recycle, build something completely new with the remains. But that is rare. Most of the material winds up discarded. And I move on, promising, no, swearing I will never breathe a word about any current project until the first draft is finished.

Until last week, I kept this promise. Then, I don’t know why, or what possessed me, but I had the urge to leave a sacrificial tidbit of writing from a current project on a post to see what would happen. And strangely, shock of shocks, I’m still working. The project hasn’t come undone.  (Holding breath, spitting three times—yes, I do that.)

Maybe that’s the secret then—offering excerpts of a work-in-progress without divulging too much information about it. Share a little, withhold most.

And keep spitting….

 

 

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