Friday, October 30, 2009

My Dream of Being a Writer

Okay, so this isn't some blog post about me waxing nostalgic over the fact that I've wanted to be a writer since I was a wee little girl growing up in Sulphur Springs, Tennessee. No, it's much more literal than that.

Last night I dreamed that I was watching a movie, but that I was actually in the movie, too. You know how that works in dreams, right? Anyway, I remember thinking, "Oh, this must be the new Twilight movie, but why is there no Edward or Bella or Jacob?" Then I realized that House from t.v was in the movie with me and he wasn't limping. Hmmm? And then we were being chased through a parking garage that turned into an old building that a church was using. So naturally House and I decided to hide in a classroom where a little old lady was teaching Sunday School. But she was just pretending; she was being chased, too. It was all very exciting *you can tell, can't you?* and the story was exciting and moving along at a breakneck pace and that's when I realized, this was no Twilight. This was not a book that had been turned into a movie, this was my story. This was my book that I was waiting to write and since I already knew the story, all I had to do was write it down. And then I remember thinking that my story was going to be so big it would be the next "Twilight" and that I was going o be as famous as Stephenie Meyer. And then I actually worried about whether or not I wanted to be famous in my dream.

Then I woke up and laughed and laughed. It was funny on so many levels. I literally had a dream that I would write a book that would be as popular as Twilight. Well, you know what they say about dreaming big. *For those of you who have missed out on the sensation that is the Twilight series, that is akin to saying I was going to be as popular as Stephen King or JK Rowling or fill in the blank with your choice of filthy rich and famous authors.*

So, the part about being a rich and famous author was ludicrous. I really do not want to be famous. I think it's overrated, and I would worry about stalkers trying to get my children, because I like to have totally random things to worry about when I run out of real things to worry about. But it's the exhilarating part about writing a book that I am trying to hold on to. I may have mentioned on here that I started toying with writing a book this summer. I love the opening three pages, which I think are really good, but I don't know where to go from here. To be honest, I'm scared. Scared that I can't tell a story from start to finish. Or, at least that I can't tell a "good" story from start to finish. What if I fail? What if I can't finish it? Or worse, what if I finish it and it's embarrassing and no one will be honest and tell me, but having read it they think my writing is pathetic. *Again, I like to have random things to worry about.*

If I hadn't mentioned it before, I am a perfectionist who manifests as a procrastinator. If I can't do something perfect, I don't bother to do it at all. Or, I wait until the very last second to do it, so if it isn't perfect, I can always tell myself that if I'd only started sooneer I would have done much better. Yes, I know this is my special brand of mental illness at its best, but I just can't seem to stop it. I've done this my entire life.

But writing is one of those things that has always come easy to me. I used to start an English paper at one or two in the morning, pull an all-nighter, and turn it in literally hot off the wordprocessor at 8 am and still get an A or at least a B+. But I am tired of my special brand of crazy. I want to be a normal writer person who writes every day whether it's good or bad and then after working hard and struggling through, has something to go back and edit. And then after more blood, sweat and tears in the editing department, she finally produces something worth reading. But I can't seem to get past the "I'm so scared of failing part" to get to the "put my seat in the chair and not get up until I've written something part." So I think maybe my dream was telling me that way down deep in my writer soul I do have a story worth writing and that all I need to do is let go and write it. *Although I am really hoping that the actual book has no chased into the Sunday School room scene in it.*

So here I go again, trying to get psyched up to write something worth reading. And then what do I do instead of writing on my book? I tell you guys about it. Hey, I've got to start somewhere, right? And don't worry, one day when I'm as popular as Stephenie Meyer I'll remember my first dearest readers. *Oh, excuse me. I think I just nodded off again.*

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Gone, but (apparently) not forgotten!

For those of you following my blog, you may have noticed I've been quiet lately. Very quiet. As in, I haven't posted in about a month and a half. "What's that all about?" you may be asking yourself. One of you was even sweet enough to call me and ask. (Sorry I haven't gotten back to you yet. I just got home last night.)

Why am I not writing? Lots of reasons I guess. I've thought of a few blog post ideas over the last few weeks and thought about sitting down to write them, but just haven't had the time? energy? enthusiasm for it? Not sure, really. I think I've just been busy. And tired. And not really in the mood.

Remember when I told you my house wants a divorce? Well, I decided that unless I want my husband to want a divorce too, maybe I better actually start doing something about it. So, I've been trying to work more diligently on the house. I like the results, but I'm not so crazy about the effort it takes -- just keeping it real over here at the creek. But honestly, I can't say that's the main reason for not writing.

I've also started a new Bible study this fall. I haven't done a daytime Bible study since Larsen was six months old, and I feel my life and family have suffered because of it. I'm not the greatest at keeping up with the work, but it does change my mindset, which is good for everyone around me. What does that have to do with writing? Well, nothing really. It's just one more thing on my plate.

I've also been 'working' on some things I don't really like about my personality and I've found that I'm just the tinsiest bit selfish. *I hear your loud protesting, but really, it's okay. The truth hurts sometimes.* Basically I've found my attitude at times to be the same as my children's, "I want to do what I want to do, when I want to do it." And sadly, when you're a grownup and have three children, a husband and other responsibilities, this is not a life plan that will work. Shocking, isn't it? So, I'm trying to work on that too, which means I can't always do what I want to do when I want to do it, i.e. blogging.

And I'm also just the tinsiest bit tired. I hate to even write that -- it sounds like such a cop-out -- but have mercy! My life just makes me tired. I don't manage my time effectively, so I stay up too late to try to accomplish too many things and then I'm tired the next day, which makes me cranky and running behind, so I don't get the things done that I need to get done, bah! It's a never ending cycle. If I could just get my backside in the bed before 10 pm, maybe I could get my life together. Why does this feel like such a pipe dream?

So judging from my blathering on, today was probably not the day to write this, because really my life is very good, just busy. And I think I'm just feeling a little blah today. I've been sick and have had sick kids since Sunday. It's also my firstborn's birthday and I think that's making me feel a little blah, too. You know "they" say that boys start separating from their mothers around age 10, and even though it's a necessary process for them to start associating more with dad than mom, it's "painful for mom." I think my now 9-year-old may be starting the separation process a little soon. He was sweet and pitiful while he was sick, so now I guess he feels the need to show me his tough side. Not sure I'm liking that so much.

So, yeah. I've been busy and tired and sick, and sick and tired, so I haven't been writing. And yeah, maybe today wasn't the day to climb back up on that particular horse, but I've got to start somewhere, right? And really, I didn't want Jenn thinking I'd suffered a horrible fate. To those of you who missed me, thanks. I'm sure you don't anymore. *grin*