written on 09.august.2004 in my writing journal (as opposed to my personal journal):
I think that perhaps I do not love writing enough to make a career of it. This is a very scary thing to write because for years, I've been telling myself that that is what I'm going to do. Perhaps it's just the grueling word-count requirements I set for myself that [make] me want to throw away the pen forever. I get to [sticky] places, boring places in my fiction, and I just can't go on.
But now, NOW! I'm enjoying this, pouring out my thoughts and even sounding halfway intelligent (though perhaps not logical). Maybe it's just the goal, the aim, that intimidates me. Maybe it's just this whole, bustling career-minded world that has confused me into thinking I have to have a career -- one specific thing I'm physically or intellectually good at -- to keep me busy.
Maybe I just can't keep up with the world of today. Maybe my call to write comes sporadically and occasionally... like right now.
Maybe someday I can use these thoughts, and arrange them into something that can benefit others.
Or maybe what I've been experiencing isn't that silly theory of writer's block. Maybe there is no writer's block. Maybe it's just that sometimes I get the writer's itch, the writer's call, something. And when I don't have that, maybe God wants me to be doing something else.
Like cleaning house.
Like loving others.
I may be going through a change. For all these months -- and years -- I've been telling people I'm going to be a fiction writer. But maybe I'm something else altogether.
There may be a fragment of fiction writer in me. But not always. Not right now. Because right now, I'm a journal writer, a thought writer. And some days, I'm not a writer at all.
1 comment:
Carrie Lou--do not let the ultimate discourager ever convince you that you must only use your writing talent to be of worth in this world. I, too, am saying farewell to this Hunting House and just a fortnight ago Mitch and I were reminiscing the many talents you exhibited as a roommate to brighten our lives...running willfully down the stairs on which many of my unfortunate friends, of whom Mitch is the most recent, have lost their belongings in their hands (most often food!) and obtained a posterior burn or bruise.
Quite recently Mitch and I also attempted to teach our roommates the culture of Interpretive Dance, but none could fully appreciate that which was born 4 years ago in this humble abode. And, well...this is just to let you know, on those days the discourager comes to mock you, remember you have a friend in Kansas (soon Illinois) who holds you in high honor, regardless of your writer's call or block. Most importantly, I know you always keep your Father's call at the front of your career (or lack thereof!!) and your eternal Friend does not determine your usefulness based on only one of the many talents He gave you! But you do have a gift ;)
Love from your contemporary "fool" for Christ,
Tami
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