RIP beloved old computer! I am writing this post in a beautiful new laptop. Like the former, it is also an HP (which, as far as my research goes, has nothing to do with H. P. Lovecraft, thank goodness), and I was put under the mad idea that having a brand new laptop, fresh start, no technical difficulties or screens and buttons that don’t work and an actual Word document that really runs (lovely-lovely new technology) would improve my writing.
And was she right? Of course, she was right!
When I opened my novel-to-be on this lovely new machine, it threw my (brilliant) floppy little story into the air, cracked it like a whip (WICHAOW!) and snapped all the loose-ends, unnecessary words and phrases (off of and actually will be the end of me. Erase the of and banish the word actually unless it’s being used in dialogue), turning my drafty draft into what it’s ACTUALLY supposed to be: a draft with possible greatness.
Possible greatness is a phrase that I use a lot with myself. Before a writer is really published (you know what I mean when I say REALLY published, right?) there are two different writers: the before-success writer and the after-success writer. The latter is much shinier and confident than the former (probably because of that lovely new laptop she is sporting!) I haven’t met her yet, but I know we’ll be friends.
But I shouldn’t be living with half of me always looking into the who-I-will-be-someday mirror, right? That doesn’t sound healthy. Aren’t we all supposed to live in the moment? Be confident in who we are right now? Be happy and content? Maybe that was just a rumor that the Beatles started.
Sorry, I’m talking to myself. I guess that’s what this blog was created for, answering some of
those unanswerable questions, tackling fear, etc. etc. etc. and so forth. Sometimes it feels like all I have is fear and doubt. After all, if I wanted to be a teacher or a doctor, I know that the world would embrace that plan with open arms. Not so much a writer. Why is that? Because doctors make more money? Because teachers can fuel the young minds that will
eventually rule the world? Phew. It’s hard to top that.
Someone must write the books that the teachers teach kids to read though, right?
It’s easy to pretend to be a writer. It takes a lot more gut and brain and willpower and strength to really be one, as is true for anything. I know that I have the drive.
Writing energizes me, and words are my passion. Seriously. I would rather have a good book than a good man. Hands down.
In fact, now that I think about it, when I was in that tube listening to Beethoven (remember that from a few posts ago?) I remember my mind drifting to my book, picking through what I wanted to shine up as soon as I could. And while I was getting my EEG (I just love that I-just-took-a-glue-bath look), I was writing. I write things in my head before I type them out (especially during a class lecture or in the shower) and sometimes my sisters get to be the unfortunates who have the honor of listening to me write through my timeline verbally. I cannot stress this enough: this writer is never not writing.
So, whether I’m in more of a Jane Eyre kind of mood or a Catherine Linton kind of mood (steer clear if it’s the latter!) or the post-published version of me verses the pre-published version, I sure am glad I’m me. I like being a slightly manic writer. It’s cool. Like having a relationship with all the other manic writers in history.
Even if I never get published, I have this journey. It’s mine and mine alone, but when I DO become published (which I shall!) my journey will officially belong, in part, to the world.
That’s what my writing is, I suppose. A love song to everyone who will listen.
Besides, how could I not get published when I have this impressive, sharp little shiny laptop?! I mean, really.
And it has facial recognition. I can’t even. I don’t actually use it, but It’s like I’m a writer and a spy all in one. I honestly couldn’t ask for more.
You actually just used the word “actually” again.
That time it was necessary. I don’t actually follow the rules all the time.
Read well.
"Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God."
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