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Endlessly fascinated
Jun. 23rd, 2006 10:40 amEndlessly fascinated
I am incredibly addicted to the written word.
So very much so.
I pour over my own writings - day in and out.
I love to see the text on the screen. Or even written word. I like it, it's been an addiction I have carried since before I rightly knew the alphabet.
What is wrong with me that I can write and write and write in LJ and never quite come to terms with the fact I need to start writing as an author?
Maybe I am just taking a longer path. I'm still young, after all.
Why do I let fear of the fact a bazillion other books have been published and it's hard enough to even have anyone notice an iota of anyone's writing let alone GET published among the bazillion other books out there?
Is my writing any good when it comes down to fictional stories?
My identity as a writer has faded. It used to be everyone knew that about me.
A storyteller, a poet.
My identity shifted when I began school to become a technician.
I had no idea what was in store for me when I made that step.
And it has been very, very good.
Is the writer in me dying?
No. No, this cannot be.
When I was a little girl, not even able to write, I told everyone I was an "author."
I was 4, I was 5. I wrote stories in my head, and this is what I told people.
And then when I could write, I began writing silly child-stories that made little sense, and yet it was the beginning. Riddle me this - what happened to my ambition? I keep revisiting this place. Nobody - you know quite well my struggles.
And perhaps I shall begin again.
Perhaps I should take a trip all by myself somewhere, if only to respark my writing.
Trips of course, cost money.
Money is tight until my finances bounce back from buying Classy.
August - though. I should schedule time off in August. Even if it means I take long day trips with my laptop to goodness knows where - just to write.
Perhaps that is what I need.
Maybe it would re-kindle my passion for my current job if I just started the writing outside of work.
Just maybe.
-Angela
I am incredibly addicted to the written word.
So very much so.
I pour over my own writings - day in and out.
I love to see the text on the screen. Or even written word. I like it, it's been an addiction I have carried since before I rightly knew the alphabet.
What is wrong with me that I can write and write and write in LJ and never quite come to terms with the fact I need to start writing as an author?
Maybe I am just taking a longer path. I'm still young, after all.
Why do I let fear of the fact a bazillion other books have been published and it's hard enough to even have anyone notice an iota of anyone's writing let alone GET published among the bazillion other books out there?
Is my writing any good when it comes down to fictional stories?
My identity as a writer has faded. It used to be everyone knew that about me.
A storyteller, a poet.
My identity shifted when I began school to become a technician.
I had no idea what was in store for me when I made that step.
And it has been very, very good.
Is the writer in me dying?
No. No, this cannot be.
When I was a little girl, not even able to write, I told everyone I was an "author."
I was 4, I was 5. I wrote stories in my head, and this is what I told people.
And then when I could write, I began writing silly child-stories that made little sense, and yet it was the beginning. Riddle me this - what happened to my ambition? I keep revisiting this place. Nobody - you know quite well my struggles.
And perhaps I shall begin again.
Perhaps I should take a trip all by myself somewhere, if only to respark my writing.
Trips of course, cost money.
Money is tight until my finances bounce back from buying Classy.
August - though. I should schedule time off in August. Even if it means I take long day trips with my laptop to goodness knows where - just to write.
Perhaps that is what I need.
Maybe it would re-kindle my passion for my current job if I just started the writing outside of work.
Just maybe.
-Angela
