I think I had a revelation today. I was sitting on the floor in the stacks of the library, scanning the titles in the section on writing and publishing. And with a sigh of resignation I decided I just don’t fit.
During the summer when I was ten, my friends and I set out writing our own great novels. Proudly, I showed my work to my extremely critical father, who quickly pronounced that nothing I ever wrote would ever get published. Parental pronouncements can be very powerful…and defeating.
Sitting there on the floor, though, I began to consider that perhaps he was giving me a gift. I have never been able to see myself writing a novel. My brain just doesn’t seem to work that way. I love to stories, the stories of my life. I believe they have purpose and I love to share them. So I felt released from having to come up with the next best novel. There are more than enough people working at that.
So where did that leave me? Other than frustrated? People keep telling me I need to write more. I have always thought that meant writing a book. But Dad said I couldn’t do that. But you’re an adult and you don’t have to listen to that anymore. He’s been dead for over twenty years, don’t you think it’s time to stand up for yourself? But what if he was right? Ack!
I have enjoyed blogging. I like writing short pieces that inspire and encourage. That’s who I am. But I want to do it better. So I went to the library computerized card catalogue (does anyone else miss flipping through the old fashion drawers?) and looked for a “Blogging for Dummies” book. And there was one! And it was actually available! I have it in my possession and I may even break down and buy one for myself.
I’m going to change my twitter profile from “wannabe writer” to blogger. I’m going to learn to excel at this medium and then see where it takes me.
This feels good and right.