I am going to attempt to try to write something every day. I guess this is
kind of inspired by my taking College Composition II this semester. I don't
mind writing, so why not practice? And realistically, if I get good maybe I
could become a writer.
I had a point, back when I was around 8, that I thought I could be a singer. That seemed like such a cool job. You go, sing some, and get fame and lots of money. I eventually realized that despite the fact that I sing constantly (mind you, kind of awkward when you're working in a retail store at a cash register and a customer asks if you're singing, especially when you didn't even realize you were singing along to bad Muzak, but in my defense, it is a mindless, monotonous job), but as I was saying, I sing constantly but realized I don't sing well. Now, I understand that doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of musicians with no real talent that still make plenty of money. I also realized fame can also be a bad thing. I have a tendency to go out and check the mail in pajama pants, and make up is worn maybe half a dozen times a year. I would be the bread and butter of worst dressed lists. (I can picture some gay fashion expert snickering over my wearing light blue, fuzzy Winnie the Pooh pajama pants with a bright orange, free Mazda t-shirt that belongs to my husband. Yes, I've worn that combo; in my defense, the pants didn't come with a shirt, and in the world of SAHM sometimes you just grab something so you have clothes on.) So I wouldn't do well in the invasion of privacy aspect.
Yet, writing you can make a lot of money and be well known, yet no one is really going to pay attention to you. You don't see James Patterson or Stephen King in magazines because they went to the airport in a t-shirt, flip flops, and an old baseball cap instead of wearing a suit worthy of the red carpet. No one cares. People are interested in what they write, not really what they look like. You can look like you've almost been beaten to death with the fugly stick and people will barely look at your book flap. Even big names, King, Patterson, most people won't really recognize them when they're out. Instead, most people are going to wonder why that jerk is getting any special treatment. Seriously, there are probably a few hundred older white guys that you could put in a Polo shirt or suit coat and have him squint and they could probably pass off claims of being Patterson if they brought along one of his books. (Stick with a paperback with a small black and white photo, the odds of pulling it off will be better!)
Professional writing also had the kind of location and hours I like, whenever and wherever. I like careers that you can do in your pajamas. I also like jobs that you can decide to do in the middle of the night when you can't sleep. Possibilities are endless.
Ok, I know I won't be a writer. I think I have the self control. I can force myself to write, college proves that. Sure, forcing myself to exercise doesn't go well, but that's different. I mean, I try to exercise inside and have four kids under my feet trying to "help", and any serious walk just isn't happening when the high temp outside is around 21 F. Sorry, nope! So while I can't force myself to exercise or sometimes resist chocolate (not my fault if it is hormone related, that's my story and I'm sticking to it), I can force myself to write because of an obligation, but still. My kids really listen, so I can't imagine anyone wanting to read what I have to say. (Hence, the loud sound of crickets at this blog. Trust me, its there.)
My two big obstacles in trying to write here daily will be remembering and ideas. I admit, if it isn't of a high importance or demanding my attention I am prone to forgetting. (Ask my cat how many times she has had to remind me to feed her. She'll be mad just thinking about it. She needs to realize some days I forget to eat, so it isn't personal.) Also, my life is pretty dull. Amazing how someone can have such a busy life yet also so uneventful, but I guess it happens.
I had a point, back when I was around 8, that I thought I could be a singer. That seemed like such a cool job. You go, sing some, and get fame and lots of money. I eventually realized that despite the fact that I sing constantly (mind you, kind of awkward when you're working in a retail store at a cash register and a customer asks if you're singing, especially when you didn't even realize you were singing along to bad Muzak, but in my defense, it is a mindless, monotonous job), but as I was saying, I sing constantly but realized I don't sing well. Now, I understand that doesn't mean anything. There are plenty of musicians with no real talent that still make plenty of money. I also realized fame can also be a bad thing. I have a tendency to go out and check the mail in pajama pants, and make up is worn maybe half a dozen times a year. I would be the bread and butter of worst dressed lists. (I can picture some gay fashion expert snickering over my wearing light blue, fuzzy Winnie the Pooh pajama pants with a bright orange, free Mazda t-shirt that belongs to my husband. Yes, I've worn that combo; in my defense, the pants didn't come with a shirt, and in the world of SAHM sometimes you just grab something so you have clothes on.) So I wouldn't do well in the invasion of privacy aspect.
Yet, writing you can make a lot of money and be well known, yet no one is really going to pay attention to you. You don't see James Patterson or Stephen King in magazines because they went to the airport in a t-shirt, flip flops, and an old baseball cap instead of wearing a suit worthy of the red carpet. No one cares. People are interested in what they write, not really what they look like. You can look like you've almost been beaten to death with the fugly stick and people will barely look at your book flap. Even big names, King, Patterson, most people won't really recognize them when they're out. Instead, most people are going to wonder why that jerk is getting any special treatment. Seriously, there are probably a few hundred older white guys that you could put in a Polo shirt or suit coat and have him squint and they could probably pass off claims of being Patterson if they brought along one of his books. (Stick with a paperback with a small black and white photo, the odds of pulling it off will be better!)
Professional writing also had the kind of location and hours I like, whenever and wherever. I like careers that you can do in your pajamas. I also like jobs that you can decide to do in the middle of the night when you can't sleep. Possibilities are endless.
Ok, I know I won't be a writer. I think I have the self control. I can force myself to write, college proves that. Sure, forcing myself to exercise doesn't go well, but that's different. I mean, I try to exercise inside and have four kids under my feet trying to "help", and any serious walk just isn't happening when the high temp outside is around 21 F. Sorry, nope! So while I can't force myself to exercise or sometimes resist chocolate (not my fault if it is hormone related, that's my story and I'm sticking to it), I can force myself to write because of an obligation, but still. My kids really listen, so I can't imagine anyone wanting to read what I have to say. (Hence, the loud sound of crickets at this blog. Trust me, its there.)
My two big obstacles in trying to write here daily will be remembering and ideas. I admit, if it isn't of a high importance or demanding my attention I am prone to forgetting. (Ask my cat how many times she has had to remind me to feed her. She'll be mad just thinking about it. She needs to realize some days I forget to eat, so it isn't personal.) Also, my life is pretty dull. Amazing how someone can have such a busy life yet also so uneventful, but I guess it happens.
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