I started writing yesterday. Like, really writing. Writing with a goal writing.
All my life, since a friend of mine and I sat every night working on a 40 page novel on my 1993 Packard Bell using Windows 3.1 (Microsoft Works!) writing a random novella using the people we knew as characters who all got stuck on an island during a school trip. It was a juvenile story line, almost fantasty, but I wrote every night and she contributed.
I lost that disc, but I’d be curious to read it today.
Yesterday, the plot line that I’ve been thinking up for months and months, saying “I want to write a novel” finally got written down. Plotted out, outlined if you will. I described it to a good friend of mine and it all sounded like a back cover summary.
Yesterday alone, I wrote 4500 words. Today? I’m hoping to match that. While of course, getting work done for my freelance client – her webhosts are being difficult so I need to deal with them.
But, a friend of mine once said “if you want to write, then just write.”
Friends, I am just writing. I want to write. I don’t want to do anything but write. All those lost dreams of running for office or being a political hack or a policy wonk that I thought I wanted? No more. I just want to write.
It’s amazing to have this epiphany about what you want from your life. It’s quite refreshing and I feel a million times lighter (until of course I wonder how my student loans will get paid…) but it’s great to finally just know what you want to do.
I thought, for a while after losing my job, that I wanted to do social media marketing, and while it would be fun, and I’d love to give it a shot, ultimately, I want to write.
Write. Write. Write.
I like to think I’m a decent writer. I’m hopeful that my novel won’t suck too much and might actually *gasp* get published! I know sometimes I use run on sentences and get a little comma happy in my writing but you know what? We all have our quirks and writing styles and as I finished up Pretty in Plaid by Jenn Lancaster last night, I realized, shit. She’s a NY Times Bestselling Author. Her grammar kind of blows. But it’s readable, and it’s her voice. Writing properly is great and all, and sure I can do it, but for the most part, I enjoy writing best when I’m using my voice.
Christine Hassler wrote on her 20 something column in the Huffington Post recently:
Last week, I asked the question: Do you want to crawl through life or do you want to spread your wings and FLY? From my perspective, crawling through life is living according to the expectations of others or societal standards that we internalize. Doing overpowers being. When we are crawling through life, we are lead by the mind/ego and buy into a false illusion of control. Although it may feel safe to live belly to the ground, fear of failure or the unknown actually become roadblocks to an uplifting and fulfilling life.
Flying involves taking leaps of faith and jumping into the unknown. It is coming from place of inspiration rather than expectation. Inspiration is an inside job though and today’s young women are too busy searching for someone or something else to light them up. We’ve got inspiration backwards as we’ve been conditioned to decide what we want to be and who we want to be with before we figure out ourselves.
To truly fly, a woman must risk giving up all her preconceived notions about who she “should” be and what life is “supposed” to be like. She has to be willing to give up the job, relationship or any other circumstance or expectation that is distracting her from living an authentic life. What is so tricky is that often things can look really fantastic from the outside which makes them challenging to transition out of.”
I’ve found it. I’ve found my inspiration and I’m taking a leap of faith. Much like the one I took in March except this leap, is much more confident and I’m not going to hang on for dear life for fear of the unknown like I have been. I’m going to go out there and write. Write whereever I can for who ever will read because me? After 14 years since I first stated I wanted to be a writer, I’m willing to call myself one.
