Man, WordPress is full of all kinds of nuggets today.
First, a short blurb from a concerned mother about her sons video gaming habit. But, it wasn’t the usual concerns of violence and blah blah blah. Instead, she made a (somewhat) well thought out cry about video games sapping the imagination from children.
An interesting perspective that I don’t really share. I think, if you’re a creative person, you’ll always find an outlet for it. Whether it’s writing, drawing, cooking, or designing your own video game. There are a million ways to express a creative soul, why would one form of art/entertainment prevent someone from being able to?
But, she’s a concerned parent, worried that her sons inherent writing ability will fade because of his gaming obsession. Ok. But, just because you’re good at something doesn’t mean you actually want to pursue it, or that you’re passionate about it. I’m ok at drawing, but have zero interest in becoming an artist. I have a great voice, or so I’m told, but I don’t want to be a professional singer.
Sometimes, things that we’re good at are really only there for us. They’re not meant for the rest of world. I love to sing, it empties my heart of stress and confusion, and brings a calmness to my mind. But, I would never go on The Voice as I’ve had people suggest. That’s not what singing is for. Not for me.
Anyway, I left a long comment, that I hoped didn’t get too forward, but basically asked for her to explain her son’s gaming habits, and her thoughts as to why she felt it was killing his creativity.
We’ll see what happens.
The second good post I found was from a fellow writer, asking how long it takes to write a novel. She even quoted Stephen King, so you know I liked it! The post was short, an honest question for her readers, so I obliged.
I talked briefly about the time it took to write ‘Vessels’. Why I thought it took that long, and if I thought, looking back, if I could have shortened it. Then I spoke about King, and how he’s a writing stud, and isn’t really the norm. I mentioned George R. R. Martin, and how long it takes him to write a novel, and then I mentioned Brandon Sanderson, of course.
But, at the end, I made this point. Don’t think too hard on how long it should take, or how many words it should be. If you let those thoughts consume you, you’ll talk yourself out of writing the novel at all. I know, because I almost did it. So, instead of worrying yourself over word count goals and timeframes, just commit to writing every day.
Write something new every day.
And you know the kicker? I just gave some pretty damn good advice. Advice that I don’t even follow! When was the last time I wrote something new? Last week… I think last Wednesday. Really? I can’t even say that I have the blogs, because I only write posts when I write fiction. So… I’m a freaking slacker. And I’m getting sick of it.
So, today I’m going to finish this post. Then write over at the Disney Honeymoon Challenge, then I’m going to turn up the music, and dive head first into ‘Cards’, because it deserves my attention.
I know it. I can feel it in my bones that this story is good. Not just the idea. Remember, ideas are cheap. But, I am the one to tell this story. Just like I was the one to tell ‘Vessels’. And I’m tired of letting my insecurities about writing, or work, or life, keep me from doing the one thing in the world I know I want.
I’ve known, since I first learned to read, and to write, that this was what I wanted. Sure, as I grew I changed my mind. I’m a Sagittarius, that’s gonna happen. And I’m sure it’ll happen int he future. But, this is the only thing I have that I am completely in control of.
I want to get promoted. But ultimately, it’s not in my control. I can work hard, and fight for it, and do my best everyday, but there’s a long list of people who have to agree with me in order for it to happen. I’m not going to give up, because that’s not my style. But, I’m going to stress less about it. I can only do so much. And I’ll do that, but I won’t tear myself apart with worry. It’s not worth it.
Then there’s Trevor. I know that I can count on him as a constant in my life. But, nothing in this life is certain. And in relationships, no one really has control. Not of the entire thing. You’re two halves of a whole. And you can’t guarantee the other half’s thoughts and feelings. I honestly don’t think that anything bad will come between us, but there will be hardships in this life together. That’s life. It’s how we handle it that will determine how happy we are.
So you see, even there I don’t have much control over what happens.
But, in writing, I am in control every moment. Maybe not what happens IN the story, that kinda comes on its own, but I control how much time I spend and how much effort I put in. There are no requirement besides those I put on myself. I am completely responsible for my success, and for how I judge that success.
A teacher, and friend, once asked me, “If you’re not a Writer, what are you?”
It rocked me. Terrified me. Because I knew then, that if I weren’t a writer, then I was nothing. At least, that’s how it felt. If I weren’t a writer, then I would be standing alone and cold, metaphorically naked, without the words to explain it. If I’m not a writer, then there’s no way for me to internalize the world and experiences I’ve had. I would be mute. Emotions and feelings would cease, because I wouldn’t have the words to convey or understand them.
Without writing, I would be nothing.
It sounds dramatic, and it is. But that doesn’t change anything. Because it’s true.
Sure, Trevor and my mother, and everyone else would say any sort of encouraging things. But, without writing, none of those things would matter. It all comes full circle and it all comes back to my ability to write down my thoughts, feelings, and reactions to the beauty of the world around me. Writing is how I think.
And how does it go? I think, therefore I am.
If I can’t write, I can’t think. And if I can’t think… Then I’m nothing.
Anyway, this post went off on a very weird, soul searching tangent. I’m gonna wrap it up here. How many of you feel the same? Or, feel free to tell me I’m crazy and need psychiatric help, because that could be possible.