Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Decisions Decisions

So, thinking more and more of the future and what the hell I would like to do I've come up with some "maybe" ideas.

1) Finish my book
2) Teach
3) Open a bookstore

This is mindless ramble that I'm going through. I guess the fact that I'll be turning 25 in less than 6 months has me going slightly crazy. I feel like I've been an adult since I was fourteen, so I would like to start living like one.
There is a ridiculous amount of pressure and I would like to go back to feeling slightly carefree or at least creative. I feel like all my creativity or liveliness has been sucked dry due to worrying about money money and oh wait money! 

Ugh and once again this was mindless chatter bye bye for now.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012


Writing is horrifying! I am still trying to get started on my first novel and have literally made every excuse in the book not to just grit my teeth and do it! I started a while ago, but quite frankly I'm scared as hell. I use to absolutely love writing...LOVED IT! Writing was my escape from the world and I thought I was pretty damn good at it. All through grade school, middle school and even high school I was always praised and encouraged by both teachers and my peers on my abilities. When I first lost my dad back in 2001 when I was in the 8th grade, writing was my sanctuary. The first thing I did when I woke up and found out I would never talk to my dad again was write a poem that was entombed with my dad. Ah writing it was my lifesaver, along with friends and family. 
... And then came college. Naturally I majored in English Writing, thinking that I was going to hone in on my skills, possibly double major in education so one day I could bestow upon others my love of writing, but I was stopped dead in my tracks by none other than my own professors. These people made me feel like I was less than nothing and that my writing was even lower. Every ounce of confidence I was building for the past eleven years was crushed upon walking into my first class. I, for lack of better words, felt like garbage- me and my writing. Little by little over my four years as an undergrad I started to lose my bond with writing, it no longer was my happy place, only a constant reminder of something someone else didn't like. It wasn't for me anymore and it started to lose it's sparkle. So on and on I put off writing my first novel. And here I am staring at my diploma and only have the first five pages of my first manuscript typed that I haven't looked at in months. I won't even dare let my mouse hover over the document and will probably (whenever I get back to it) change everything I have so far. It's unfortunate that what has hindered my confidence was done by those who were suppose to aid me in my success. I actually had to tell off one professor before he tore a part a piece I wrote that was very dear to my heart, because it was about my dad. Luckily for him I didn't have to claw his eyes out through my computer screen and he mustered a bit of civility and actually used my piece for the weekly discussion. I don't know what it is about English Professors, but if anyone should know how difficult it is to be a writer, or what it's like to TRY and become a writer it's them. You would think they would try to build up their students rather than crush them with negativity. I understand the real world isn't going to sugar coat things with hugs and warm fuzziness, but at least before the world kicks our ass, help us hone in on our abilities rather than knocking us down before we give the world a chance to.

---Happy writing.