(Author’s note: This post wore me out, so I did the cowardly thing and abandoned it. I even left it without a name. But I’m too supersticious to skip it entirely… So it’s up.)
The question I wrote at the top of my notebook today, was:
“What am I doing here?”
I still can’t believe that I’m writing and sharing my unpolished words publicly. I also can’t believe I’ve already gone from describing my posts as “garbage words” to “unpolished words.”
Today’s piece was tougher to write. I had nothing to say but still managed to scratch out a few good words.
I have no mind to reflect today, so I’ll leave you with a simple and “unpolished” Unedited First Draft.
— UNEDITED FIRST DRAFT —
There’s a brief moment, right before my pen hits the notebook, where I wonder how I got so lucky. How did I manage to pull the “I dream of writing” card?
Most ‘professional’ writers will write on the agony that comes with being a writer. The usual monolog describes the dread of the blank page or the fear of the impending deadline, but once you get through the rant, the fear clouds break and the love for this craft shines its way to the page.
I share this same love, but not the same fear-clouds. I drew my Dream card later in life, so I fear I’m too old to write poorly. A 30’something-year-old should at least write as well as the average 30’something-year-old. I’d never written at the average-something-year-old level; I was always below it. So my monolog sounded something like:
“I want to be a writer, but I’m a below average writer.”
The millennial in me says, “Oooooh a dream cloud! Let’s follow that!” but the mother in me that remembers leaving the house without a cellphone says, “Let’s be reasonable and make our career out of something we’re good at.”
I’m grateful my inner millennial won this battle. Dream cards are rare, and they’re only handed out if you have the goods to bring them to life.
I might, not yet, have the skills required for professional writing, but I have the love for the work.
I barely recognize the girl from Day 1. I started this blog to create a space where ‘bad writers’ could still call themselves ‘writers.’ A place where the love for this writing dream could: whittle away at our grammatical weaknesses, restructure our confusingly pointless blog rants and light the path to this mysterious writing voice, us newbies are desperately seeking.
— WRITING REFLECTION —
This post is a part of a 100 Day Writing Challenge series for bad writers.
Follow me on Instagram @onemomswords to see how I find my writing voice in a deep pile of messy words.
This is a new blog: no purpose yet, no images yet, no clear sense yet; just words, lots of tangled words.