Every now and then, I wake up before noon *gasp* and go to my morning class. I always love the feeling of being awake before everyone else is, sipping on my coffee, having some soothing early morning thoughts. Somehow, I also always forget this as the next morning I oversleep and go into a rushed frenzy to get to my obligations. As motivation to wake up, I am bringing you a new series named Morning Musings (courtesy of one of my friends).
This morning, I was itching to write. One of my biggest goals in life is to become a published author at the age of 30. I discovered my love for writing early on in elementary school when my creative piece was published in the Anthology of Short Stories written by students in grades 4 through 6. Back then, my work was highly creative and out of this world. Literally. I loved writing science fiction, magic, and diving into imaginary worlds beyond what we know on Earth. But as time passed, writing became a chore. Whether it was AP exams, the SATs, or an honors literature class paper on Shakespeare’s tragedies, writing became an assignment I had to crank out in a short amount of time. I barely had any free time to work on my own creative projects.
When I was in high school, I set that life goal I discussed earlier. Let’s be honest, I probably need to give myself a three-year leeway with that. I had drafts of so many different stories I never finished because I grew critical and started editing my stories before even completing the rough draft. So many characters of mine never saw the end of their stories, never found their closure, never had the chance to grow. I thought about trying NaNoWriMo but realized it was not beneficial for me and did not fit into my student athlete schedule.By the time I was in college, I had almost given up. It was clear I would never be able to create a story that I could actually commit to that people would want to read.
When life turned bumpy for me about three years ago, I took my writing to a leather-bound journal. In order to soothe my anxiety and let out steam, I would fill journals up with unedited thoughts until I was satisfied. I still do this every now and then, but I find that I only really journal when I’m pent up or in a specific negative mood. Still, it didn’t fulfill my crave for writing.
About a two years ago, I took a creative writing course in my university. While I had the freedom to write, I had guidelines to follow. The class turned into a workshop where we discussed literature we read more than a class allowing you to practice writing. I felt discouraged and unsatisfied.
The next semester, one of my friends joked that I should write a tell-all about my life. She was highly entertained by all the crazy stories I would share over the years and always got a kick out of watching some of the weirdest things happen to me. I promise, it’s not mean because I find it hilarious too. My instant response was “I am not trying to have a skeleton in my closet sue me for libel!” Granted, of course, I would probably change the names to avoid this altogether were I to do so. She persisted. My next response was then “I am also not trying to be my generation’s next Dan Humphrey.” Screw him. I disliked him in season one and never changed my opinion even through the Gossip Girl finale.
Currently, I have Bouge & Rouge. It’s been a great outlet for me to write freely about quite literally anything I want. The restraints I set for myself in terms of categories and topics are wide enough for me to have all the leeway I want with it. Many of my peers also somehow started blogs of their own right after I did. Some have incredibly professional fashion blogs while others follow a more simplistic formula or mainly blog about personal thoughts. Whatever we each chose seems to be working for us. As always, B&R continues to be a project. There is never a perfect version as I always strive to better it with every new post or graphic change. I love everything it’s provided for me. Yet, I still can’t answer my question as the life goal of being a published author around the age of 30 still haunts me:
What is the right thing for me to write about?
Honestly, I’m not sure there is such thing as the “right” thing anymore. Every writer has his or her own pace and processes. Putting a time pressure or constraints on creativity can be productive at times but often stifles natural inspiration. I’m learning that the older I get, the more experience I can draw from for inspiration. After turning 22 this weekend, I realized how much I’ve changed since I turned 21. The experiences I went through this calendar year could inspire a hundred of novels. Which one is the “right” novel? Who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ All I am worried about now is whether I have the chance to grab my laptop or a pen and paper when the next idea comes to mind.
For all you writers out there stuck in a lifelong writer’s block like me, ne t’en fais pas. When the time is right, the “right” thing will come along. Until then, just keep writing whatever comes to mind regardless whether it’s a journal entry, blog post, or little thought on the corner of your notes.
Bonne chance, mes chéries!