During the school year, I rarely have time to sit down and write for fun. My time is jammed with completing assignments, studying for tests, or writing essays. When I do have some time free, I try to catch up on television programs or meet up with friends. Even just putting aside a couple of hours a week to read becomes a struggle. Writing a whole story is out of the question.
However, I often define myself as a “writer”. Sure, I write a blog. Sure, I keep a journal. Sure, I write up lists of favorite characters. But is that really storytelling? There is no structure, plot, or characters. Writing has become my way of expressing myself to myself. But if I really dream of being an author, I have to do more than that. I have to work on stories, get back in touch with my imagination, and spend some time improving my writing style. I have to write for more than just myself. I’m an adult now. I finally have college out of the way so that I can focus on finding my passion, my purpose, and my life path. Is it writing? Is it acting? Is it counseling? I’m not sure. But this is my time to find out.
My dad asked me today why I never actually write. While I love to talk about my passion for writing stories, I rarely actually write them. It’s a little ridiculous to identify myself as a “writer” when I never actually write. So today I picked up where I left off on a story I began working on two years ago. It’s a solid story with engaging characters. I feel kind of guilty for abandoning them. If I am going to be a writer, an actress, or a counselor…I have to start practicing what I preach. I need to write, I need to act, and I need to get some field experience.
Writing isn’t easy. It’s rewarding and fun, but it’s not an easy task. Keeping characters consistent, creating an engaging plot, and keeping all the facts accurate is not simple. Having a writing style that sounds more mature than a 4th grader can be a bit of a struggle. Writer’s block is a very real thing. Having to get “in the zone” is a very real thing. Grammar, my mortal enemy, is a very real thing. But if I’m going to dedicate myself to writing, I have to keep trying at it. I have to write. I’ve read some of my old stuff and it’s far from bad. Kudos to past me. Now it’s time to dig down deep and recover that part of myself that has been lying dormant for the past four years. I know she’s still in there and I know that she has a story to tell. I’ve seen what she can do. It’s surprisingly impressive. I just need to find that spark once more.
If I’m going to be a writer someday, I might as well start now. The first step to becoming a professional at something is to actually do the thing. So it’s about time I stop sitting around like a lazy couch potato having an existential crisis. My life begins today. And I best start actually living it.
“Cages or wings? Which do you prefer? Ask the birds. Fear or love, baby? Don’t say the answer. Actions speak louder than words”-Tick…Tick…BOOM!