My friend Bill sent me an email that basically said, "Where ya been?" First of all, I appreciated that someone actually notice and/or cared that I'd been neglecting my blogging. Second, it of course set off a chain reaction of guilt that I had somehow let people down by NOT writing anything lately.
I realize the absurdity in my guilt. But alas, it's who I am. I haven't been blogging because I've been immersed, more or less happily, in playing with my kids, cleaning out my closets, and getting ready for the upcoming semester of teaching. That's part of it. However, only part.
I actually play things pretty close to the vest. Nonetheless, Bill's email hit some kind of nerve, so I'll tell you -- aided by the fact that it's Saturday night and I'm freshly gorged on French food and good wine -- the unvarnished truth.
I want to be a writer. I've got about 60 pages of a novel finished, and another one under way. However, I stand on the edge of a vast, simmering cauldron of self-doubt, wondering how I have the audacity to think I can actually ever finish a book that would be worth reading. Case in point, I've only got about 3 readers of this blog at last count, and I've disappointed them. My sense is that real writers are driven, compulsively, to write, despite the fact that there are a million other things in their lives that demand their time. My friend Brett wants to be a writer, and he writes all the time, and even put a novel online. Colin, who is in many ways an inspiration, is all over the place writing, talking, blogging.
I, on the other hand, have started about a zillion witty, fascinating posts in my head, and yet rarely seem to get around to putting anything on the damn computer. This clearly indicates some kind of character flaw on my part.
I was having lunch with Linda (you don't know her, but I'm trying not to compulsively say "my friend," which reminds me of My Friend Flicka, a tragically sad story, but that's off-topic), and she said, "What do you want to do that you haven't yet." Of course, the book thing jumped to the forefront. I want to write a book.
But this is hard. And hard to admit. I'm probably just another average Jane trying to get by. I may fool myself into thinking that I'm good at some things, that I've made some good connections with people, but I think writers are special. I'm not sure I've got the goods to deliver. Writers are right up there with earthly gods to me, because they create connections between people, complete strangers, that draw us together and help explain our lives. I can't help wonder: what can I possibly add to that dialogue?
I'm not asking you to rush in and encourage me. "Come on, old girl, you can do it." Nope, I'm really not fishing for praise. This is just...how it is. That seemingly endless well of derision and self-doubt that I tend to keep lidded somehow scorches to a roaring boil when I sit still and try to write. It makes it hard. Very hard. So I make excuses about all of the other perfectly legitimate things I need to do before I get started/keep going/finish up. So maybe I'm not a real writer. Sorry Bill.
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4 comments:
You, too, are blog-inspiring (see mine today)
We, your readers (I still read most of our classmates' blogs), should apologize for making you feel guilty. You've written terrific blogs entries, well written and often moving. You're just spread way too thin. Let's see, you're a teacher, a student, a mother, wife, novelist, who-knows-what-else, and blogger? It's natural for anyone to wonder if they have the stuff of writers, when it's such a part-time pursuit. But you needn't. Your blog stuff shows you've got it in you. But you're absolutely right about one thing, published writers are driven. It is not necessarily my most talented friends who are published, just the most committed. The question is, how many roads can you drive down at once? If your real dream is to write a book, then perhaps that should be your focus. Much as we enjoy your blog, blogging can wait. You can always come back to it some day. Don't let us pressure you. Let go of the guilt and go wherever you have the time and energy to go.
I feel the same as you do constantly. I started to blog because I wanted to write. Well, I've just ended up "posting" -- which I believe is quite different from writing.
It's inspiring and comforting for me to read that all writers are basically insecure. Even Stephen King! I'm not a huge fan of his -- but, he says that he MAKES himself sit down to write everyday. And that is a very common theme among writers when you read what they have to say about, well, their writing!
jd's comment could be right -- if you want to "write" more, maybe you should stop blogging -- OR! And this is what I'm really trying to force myself to do -- write on your blog -- and to heck with feeling insecure about it.
Easier said than done -- I know.
Keep it up! One foot in front of the other!!
I'm pullin' for ya!
Well, as the fourth person to comment on this post, I think we've just disproved the idea that there are only three people that read this blog.
As a person who has been blogging for a long time, and starts every New Year off with resolutions to write more in the new year, I have to note that I haven't updated by blog in nearly a week, even though there has been much to write about.
I don't know. I'm driven to write. I spend hours composing in my head. Unfortunately, too little of it makes it on to the page. I think that is another characteristic of many writers.
Anyway, don't sweat it, just keep writing as often as you can.
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