“One of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can’t utter.” ~James Earl Jones
I am so jealous of all my writer friends *sigh* I seem to collect friends who are aspiring authors. It is lovely, and I really enjoy watching them go through the process, as well as being their guinea pig audience, but at the same time I envy them. I can’t write plots… I am the sort that spends too much time getting lost in words and take 3 pages to describe the colour of *insert unimportant feature of the hero’s face here*. I don’t like reading about that, and I doubt anyone else would. That’s why I gave up on that idea as a teenager. Well that and getting shouted down whenever I wrote anything that I actually liked LOL I used to try to write novels when I was younger. I would get an exercise book, write a title page, draw an illustration, and just write. It was always YA fiction, and probably very poor. I am not sure, as I haven’t seen them with adult’s eyes. I do know that I once wrote about twin girls when I was 10 LOL
So I have a question. It is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I have no ambition to be an author. But I know you don’t just magically and suddenly become an amazing writer – it is like any other skill – you learn, you experiment, you grow. Do you think I should potter around again with writing? I really do love playing with words. They float around in my mind and I wish I could put them to work. I don’t mean to kid myself that I am a writer, but do you think I should try again? I wasn’t in a good place when I gave up as a teenager. I end up writing little scraps and pages all over the place. I keep thinking that if I had have made some sort of concerted effort, I could have at least had enough for a novella by now. Or something. I have a big blue journal at home that is filled with my writing, most not fit for consumption (including a poem I wrote when I was 8 – my imagery was cute in it’s cheesiness!). Some of the stuff I like I have posted here (scheduled to be shared on a set cycle so I don’t post it all at once). But I have been thinking more and more lately that I am never going to hone skills if I don’t try. I am going to reiterate here: I never expect to be a writer, an author or published. I wouldn’t be kidding myself that I have the skill of writing fiction that is readable, nor that is marketable. What I am thinking is maybe if I start just writing. putting words on paper, regardless of if I think they are “good” or not, maybe I might learn I have something. I hate that a gave up on a love of mine, not matter that it was an intangible dream. I hate that I get a teeny bit jealous when my friends tell me they have been up all night writing. So maybe I should do something about it. I don’t know. I guess I will continue to share merit-less poetry and keep my other tangled words to myself.