Every day I struggle to balance the desire to write with my lack of raw talent.
Back in the days of pigtails and knee socks, my grandmother handed me a few sheets of paper or even, during desperate times, a paper plate. She told me to write a story.
I now realize little me writing a story for twenty minutes was so much better than little me talking for twenty minutes. Nonstop.
My family is smarter than they first appear.
Like most children, I dreamed up crazy professions for adulthood.
My doctor phase didn’t last long. I realized I could self-diagnose without twenty years of school. My private investigator phase lasted a little longer. It peaked when after declaring the corner house on my street a money laundering hotspot, the police swarmed and knocked down their doors. I deserved a junior citizen’s medal of spying honor, even if they laundered drugs instead of money.
By the time I packed my bags and headed to college, I wanted to write for a newspaper. I doubted my ability to write anything as long as a book, but surely I could scribble out a single page story. After all, reporting is merely recounting facts. I thought.
Two years into a Commercial Writing major, I not only doubted my ability to write a one page article, but I doubted I could write my name and address without mistakes. I wasn’t failing, but none of my teachers loved my writing
I am pretty average in the talent department.
I still wanted to write, but fear stopped me.
Then I began blogging. After telling a few stories, I forgot I was afraid to write. You laughed. You encouraged me in the comments, and I wrote some more.
Blogging made living my dream possible.
I’ve been reading Stephen King’s book, On Writing. Whether you love or hate Stephen King makes no difference, the man knows how to write. Well. On Writing isn’t a novel, but a book on the craft of writing.
In short, I am inspired.
This isn’t a book review, so I won’t rewrite the book. You can read it for yourself.
The point is if you want to do something, do it.
Ignore the voices saying you can’t or you’re not good enough.
You are enough.
Don’t worry about failure. That may or may not come You’ll never find out unless you try. I don’t even think success or failure is as important as trying and actually completing the task.
If it’s running a marathon, run.
If you want to write a book, write.
If you want to create original art, paint.
Or sew. Or draw. Or photograph.
Just get it done.
I am writing. When I am eighty, I want to give my grandchildren something to read. If they don’t read it until after I’m dead, who cares! If nobody likes it, their loss. If it never gets published, I’ll have it bound myself. For me.
What’s important is that I write.
What do you want to do?
Will you take a chance, kick fear to the curb, and begin living your dream?
God hasn’t given you the spirit of fear.
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