Ego

Lately I've been tooling around with the idea of writing something besides blogs, emails, or MySpace bulletins. When I was growing up, I wanted to be a writer, or an English teacher. My dad and I spent hours making up stories together when I was a little girl. I entered a few writing contests when I was a kid, and I won all that I entered. My sister was and is convinced that it is my destiny to become a writer.

Daphne let me borrow a copy of "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott. I was all pumped. I can do this writing thing, I thought. Hell, I've played this RPG game with one of my friends for years. I've written enough dialogue for a hundred movies. I've come up with story lines, characters and plot twists. And I can do it. I'm good at it, even! I've come up with things that even impress ME and I totally came up with it!

So, today I started kinda working on something. I was all into it, too. I think I worked for an hour or so, non-stop. I know this doesn't sound like a long time, but I'm terrified of the cursor. The way it blinks at me. "I'm waiting..." it says. "You're not getting any younger...." it says. "Maybe you aren't so talented after all..." it says. I just kept bouncing this idea around in my head and suddenly I thought "I'd better write this down before I forget" and then it just came pouring out. I read over it again, and I filled in some more. I got a little frustrated when I couldn't make something work so I just saved it, started something new that was easier to write, and then quit for the day cause I'm lazy.

I just got home from hanging out at Dana Dane's. I re-read what I wrote.

IT SUCKS.

You guys.... it sucks so bad that I was actually embarrassed. I almost deleted it because it's SO BAD that I was afraid I would DIE AND SOMEONE WOULD FIND IT AND THINK I THOUGHT IT WAS GOOD.

This writing thing is way harder than it looks. Apparently it's going to take thought, and work, and a lot of sitting around thinking I suck. I guess my ego wrote a check my ass couldn't cash. Oh, I can write, I thought. How hard could it be? I've done it before! For God's sake, I won a writing contest when I was in 8th GRADE. Obviously this means I'm AWESOME!

Oh, Lord. Forgive me for thinking I could do this and it would be easy. That I knew more than I thought I did. Please let the mustard seed of talent I have not be crushed by a few terrible short stories, and instead blossom into a passable excuse for what could be considered good writing. In some countries.

Even blogging this is scary. It's almost like telling your friends you're going on a diet. They'll keep waiting for you to show them something.... and what if nothing comes? But like I said, I'm not getting any younger. I guess if I just stop trying then that would really be wasting any talent that I do possess.

In the meantime, if I die.. please toss my computer onto a viking pyre and shove it off to sail along the Coosa River. I'd like to be remembered FONDLY.

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