Writing to Reach You

Writing is easy. It's typing some words on a computer, or writing them down in a notebook. Thinking of something worthy of writing about is a MUCH harder task.

I think I'm a decent writer. I've always liked to write. I remember sitting at home during the holidays one winter when I was little, writing story after story after story. I'm sure going back and reading those stories now would just embarrass me--I know one involved a talking Turkey that didn't want to be eaten for Thanksgiving. But the point is, the child me seemed to have endless ideas to write about. Whether they were worthy of writing about is irrelevant...the ideas were there, and I wrote. And I was proud of anything that I finished, running to my parents to read the latest and greatest short story.

Now, writing seems much harder. Thanks to Patrick's sister starting an online magazine recently, I've started writing and editing again. Which was great, because after graduating and then going on to do NOTHING with my major for the time being, it felt incredible to have a reason to write again. I had an excuse to put my fingers to the keys and type away, even if it was something as simple as a movie or book review.

Writing for the magazine stirred the desire to write that was inside of me again. I found myself wanting to write, and I even had a few decent ideas. I started blogging a little bit on MySpace, which I was usually too afraid to do. I even had a couple flashes of inspiration that ended up becoming short stories. I started to feel good about my writing again, thinking maybe I could actually do something with it. And then self-doubt began to set in. I've considered writing a novel a few times, but I hit a road block every time. I just don't know if I have any ideas that are good enough, or that I can expand upon enough to actually write an entire novel about. The one idea I did have I began to doubt the more and more I think about it.

I was rearranging the books on my bookshelf today, and as I looked at the titles of all the books I've read and loved I thought about how much writing can mean to someone. The books I've read have all touched me in some way, changing the way I view the world or myself. I think part of what is discouraging is that I don't know if I can write something that feels as meaningful or important as some of the things I've read. I'm a perfectionist--I want what I write to be really good and worth reading. And if I don't think it will be, I don't bother. That's probably the first hurdle I need to overcome. Just writing to write, and worrying about what comes out of it later.

I wish I could bring some aspects of school to my home life. I need someone telling me "You need to write 5 pages by Tuesday." I work great under pressure, and it seems like without someone forcing me to get things done I tend to put them off or not do them at all. A procrastinating attitude really doesn't get you far when there are no deadlines.

And with my rant full of self-doubt and desire for inspiration to strike, I will end this first post and go back to reading another author's great writing :)