Can I Write? Should I Write?
Every day I wake up and think up a great idea, whether it be for a short story, a novel, a blog post, or an article. I think to myself how funny it would be to share, how interesting it would be, or that maybe I could open up someone's eyes to a side of a story they never thought of before.
Self-doubt then sets in before I can even boot up my laptop. The downfall? I find myself ignoring these ideas calling out to me. Who would read this? Who would care? Am I even good enough to try? Where did these thoughts come from and why can I not fight through them to share my ideas?
When I was back in college I wrote with abandon for a website called "My Dear Diary" and "Love and Learn." On MDD, I had my own "diary" (which, sorry kids, was what led to the invention of blogs) and had quite a following. I would write about my day. I would write about my fears. I would write about a funny thought I had. And I would engage my followers in discussions on silly things or serious things - whatever the day brought me. I wrote with abandon and didn't care what anyone thought. On L&L I wrote an advice column. People would write in with their love problems and I would reply - I was the snarky young know-it-all who could see things clearly because they weren't happening to me (those who can't do teach!!) I long for the days where I can just write with abandon again. And so that is what I will aim to do with you lil blog of mine. I thought I would try my hand at doing book reviews, but I feel almost stifled in forcing myself to write a longer review than what I would on Goodreads, which is sometimes not at all, and to do it for every book I read. Don't get me wrong - if I read a book I am so moved to write about (such as Cure for the Common Breakup because I could not get enough of that book!) I will without a problem. But there's so much bouncing around in my head, I think it's only fair to try and get it out. And if someone somewhere stumbles across it and finds joy, encouragement or any emotion that makes them get up and do something? Even better.
So where did this feeling come from? My boyfriend's birthday. I told my boyfriend about this blog and my corresponding twitter account (ReadWriteShoes of course!) one day as I always feel the want to share all parts of my life with him. He sounded intrigued and asked for the name so that he could follow me on twitter and search for the blog. I asked him not to. I need something for me where I don't feel compelled to hide anything, or reconstruct how I feel out of fear that he's reading this and I didn't want him to know something. So I really hope he hasn't found this yet. Where was I? Oh yes his birthday. I wanted to give him something special and we had started joking around about those novels from our youth - choose your own adventure novels. I got the idea to write him a choose your own adventure novel. But the self doubt set in and his birthday came and went. Thankfully we had fun in Vegas as I whisked him away for a weekend of fun. But my big present? Still in my laptop only half finished out of fear that he would laugh at me. Totally unfounded. I know he would be nothing but supportive.
This week I am technically unemployed -I found a new job and took a week off before I start the new job. And I have a few things that have to get done - search for a new apartment. Plan my vacation in November so we can book flights. Get my car back from the shop. And write. Write without abandon. Write in you lil blog. Write my choose your own adventure novel. Write like there's no tomorrow and the only way to move ahead is to get my thoughts on paper, whether it be digital or literal.
The push for this? Surprisingly a movie. Day one of my vacation and I sat here watching Netflix avoiding my list of what I wanted to get done and stumbled across the movie "Authors Anonymous." Wherever we can find our inspiration, right? And away we go...
Self-doubt then sets in before I can even boot up my laptop. The downfall? I find myself ignoring these ideas calling out to me. Who would read this? Who would care? Am I even good enough to try? Where did these thoughts come from and why can I not fight through them to share my ideas?
When I was back in college I wrote with abandon for a website called "My Dear Diary" and "Love and Learn." On MDD, I had my own "diary" (which, sorry kids, was what led to the invention of blogs) and had quite a following. I would write about my day. I would write about my fears. I would write about a funny thought I had. And I would engage my followers in discussions on silly things or serious things - whatever the day brought me. I wrote with abandon and didn't care what anyone thought. On L&L I wrote an advice column. People would write in with their love problems and I would reply - I was the snarky young know-it-all who could see things clearly because they weren't happening to me (those who can't do teach!!) I long for the days where I can just write with abandon again. And so that is what I will aim to do with you lil blog of mine. I thought I would try my hand at doing book reviews, but I feel almost stifled in forcing myself to write a longer review than what I would on Goodreads, which is sometimes not at all, and to do it for every book I read. Don't get me wrong - if I read a book I am so moved to write about (such as Cure for the Common Breakup because I could not get enough of that book!) I will without a problem. But there's so much bouncing around in my head, I think it's only fair to try and get it out. And if someone somewhere stumbles across it and finds joy, encouragement or any emotion that makes them get up and do something? Even better.
So where did this feeling come from? My boyfriend's birthday. I told my boyfriend about this blog and my corresponding twitter account (ReadWriteShoes of course!) one day as I always feel the want to share all parts of my life with him. He sounded intrigued and asked for the name so that he could follow me on twitter and search for the blog. I asked him not to. I need something for me where I don't feel compelled to hide anything, or reconstruct how I feel out of fear that he's reading this and I didn't want him to know something. So I really hope he hasn't found this yet. Where was I? Oh yes his birthday. I wanted to give him something special and we had started joking around about those novels from our youth - choose your own adventure novels. I got the idea to write him a choose your own adventure novel. But the self doubt set in and his birthday came and went. Thankfully we had fun in Vegas as I whisked him away for a weekend of fun. But my big present? Still in my laptop only half finished out of fear that he would laugh at me. Totally unfounded. I know he would be nothing but supportive.
This week I am technically unemployed -I found a new job and took a week off before I start the new job. And I have a few things that have to get done - search for a new apartment. Plan my vacation in November so we can book flights. Get my car back from the shop. And write. Write without abandon. Write in you lil blog. Write my choose your own adventure novel. Write like there's no tomorrow and the only way to move ahead is to get my thoughts on paper, whether it be digital or literal.
The push for this? Surprisingly a movie. Day one of my vacation and I sat here watching Netflix avoiding my list of what I wanted to get done and stumbled across the movie "Authors Anonymous." Wherever we can find our inspiration, right? And away we go...
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