Music Notes

Challenge Day 5

The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.
– Dr. Seuss

Tell us more about the writer in you.
Plans/ Aspirations/ Fears/ Status etc?

I've always been a creative writer since I was a little kid. It began with simple, goofy stories about my stuffed animals. I wrote fanfiction of The Wind in the Willows, being entirely unaware there was a name for such derivative works. I wrote a comedy of Romeo and Juliet featuring a "story within a story" of my stuffed animals putting on a play. I transcribed and turned into stories the dialogues from my favorite TV shows, which I had memorized. I built a fictional Little House style pioneer universe populated with a kingdom of pug dogs inspired by my stuffed pug collection.

I never sought an audience for my stories, having read some of them at an early age to my mom and been rather embarrassed when she gently pointed out absurdities. It didn't occur to me that anyone else might appreciate them. As I learned more about literature over the years in my homeschooling, I would look back at my earlier work and cringe, taking time to lovingly edit, rewrite and improve it.

I also journaled extensively, writing about our garden and the various plants and animals, observing the foibles of our neighbors, and recording the myriad little peculiarities of life. I never thought to make a living off of writing; it was just something I did, a way to take note of things I thought were important or interesting. As my notebooks accumulated, I enjoyed going back and reading entries from "this time last year" just to see what was happening and how much I'd grown or changed since then.

As I grew older, I abandoned creative writing for a number of reasons. A lot of it had to do with the realization that growing up meant I was expected to read current "adult" fiction rather than old-fashioned or children's fiction, and since I didn't believe I should expose myself to the sordid and potentially indecent fancies of modern grownups, I left the world of fiction behind entirely. I wasn't ready to make the transition from Charles Dickens and Norton Juster to James Patterson, Danielle Steel and Steven King (and to be honest I'm doing pretty well as a writer without reading any of those )

My rediscovery of creative writing and my presence here on WdC is almost entirely accidental, an extended fluke in the mundane flow of my life. I had absolutely no plans or aspirations at all; I simply had a story stuck in my head which suddenly made its way out, and I desperately wanted some form of outside input on it.

I suppose the one fear I had when putting myself out here last year—the first time anyone ever saw a story I've written—was not so much criticism, as simply being ignored. I struggle with this as I consider my motivation for remaining here. Am I only here to "get attention," to be admired and to foist myself on people to make me feel better about myself? Am I being of some use? Am I creating content that is rich and meaningful and wholesome, that will have lasting value after I am no longer around? Am I really a valuable member of the community? Or am I simply playing a fun game of "look at me, I'm writing stories and otherwise goofing off!"

People here tell me to seek professional publication. Perhaps I should. But I have no idea where I would start or what I would write. As a kid, I always instinctively preferred the short story form; even as I wrote longer collections with the same characters, the chapters were loosely connected in a Dickensian fashion (think The Pickwick Papers) rather than being novels. These days I have confirmed my preference and affinity for short fiction. I quiver at the thought of undertaking a NANO, and marvel at the gumption of those who regularly write and/or publish whole and complete novels.

My current status, then, remains that of a dabbler and a hobbyist: one who enjoys the art of creative writing and pursues it merely as a fun and rewarding pastime. I'm still trying to figure out my place in life, and my adventures on WdC have proven to be a fascinating detour. Perhaps I'll explore the possibilities of a career in creative writing, but right now I feel like there are more important things I should be doing like getting a college degree or a job. I'm not as yet sure how I would combine or balance these life choices. I feel like I'm on the edge of something big and beautiful but that it might all be a wasteful illusion. Which is a strange feeling indeed.

Word Count: 784.