You should write a book…

Alternately titled The Little Writer that Could…

Every now and again, I will be exchanging emails with my girls while at the plantation and I’ll say something incredibly silly. Sometimes I tickle myself when I am even typing the nonsense out. I always get responses back that say one of two things, “Girl, why are you not writing a book” or “You should be a writer”. While I am flattered (wordplay is something in which I pride myself and judge others upon), I never actually take their words to heart.

There was a time when I thought that I wanted to be a writer. I have always had a certain affinity for the English language. I’m a word nerd, through and through. I’ve been this way since I learned to read. As a child, I used to write stories all of the time. I still have (somewhere) a copy of my epic tale called Underscore, which was loosely based upon the hijinks of myself & high school friends. I reread it a few years ago and laughed so hard. I thought I was a li’l Bebe Moore Campbell–killin’ ’em with my wordplay. Meh…notsomuch.

For a while, I fancied myself a lil Poetic Justice & set about writing verse. Some of them were quite inspired, but most were rather insipid. I shudder while recalling the “love” poems I wrote. (Dude, one of them had a line that went something like I love, need, & want you like that Patti LaBelle song *cringe*) I was rather proud of myself for not sinking to the “rhymey, singsongy” school of poetry though. Soon the well ran dry and I moved back to prose.

I wrote a few fanfics (bless you if you have no idea what that is) when I was fangirling for Jelly. They never saw the light of day. Too embarassed to share my work with others. I don’t think that I’ve ever shared any piece of prose I’ve written (outside of classwork), actually.

It has been a few years since I’ve dipped my quill in the ink and created anything that is longer than a blog post. I get inspired and write down my ideas, but they go nowhere. I keep making empty promises to my friend Lisa that we’ll get together and get a writer’s circle (welp, more like line since it’d just be the two of us) happening, but then I never follow through. BASTA! Enough is enough…

I keep saying that I am not satisfied with my current job situation. I need a new hobby, something to get me through these days and give me something to look forward to. Perhaps, I should stop seeking out something new and go back to the old. Get my arse in gear–pen + pad and start back creating. I want to begin simply at first. Craft a couple pages here and there. Get out some of the things I’ve been contemplating as little rambles or short stories or verselettes or haiku…something.

Channel the frustration and negative vibes that I am throwing off by the boatload into something positive. Create deadlines. Meet those deadlines…or at least try to. Stop being so chickenshit and share my work with others. Accept criticism. Learn from it. Change and resubmit. Until I finally get it right…

…here goes nothin’


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