Writing

Writing.

It is something that... I have given up to be completely honest.

I shouldn't say that. I haven't given it up completely. I just don't write as I had envisioned myself doing. By this time in my life (age 25), I had pictured myself spending weekends in the park with a notebook or my laptop just writing or typing away. Instead, I spend my weekends studying business ethics and accounting practices as an accounting major, and dreading going to work the next day. I still write, but I have ideas that just don’t seem to come out.

I had this grand idea for a series of novels all revolving around one town, and one central group of friends. It was a bit of a soap opera to be honest. It would follow mainly one character from the age of 15 to around the age of 40. It would contain stories of his parents, siblings, and friends, but he would be the central character around which the others orbited. I have his biography written out up to the age of about 28. I know how I want his life to go. I know what song I want playing on the stereo the first time he makes love with his true love. I have this all planned out in my head. Why can’t I write it all out?

I have started keeping a journal. A journal of my history. I am writing it so that my future children can look at it and say, “This is our dad the way he saw it”. Not what my friends or family tell them. Yes I know, I could just tell them myself with my voice, but what if I forget something? Or what if I don’t live long enough to tell them?

That’s what has me worried about my writing. I feel like I need to get something published in my life. It is my goal. I gave up on being an English major because I knew I needed a career. So therefore, I’m an accounting major. Oh I like it, don’t get me wrong. Numbers come easily to me, and I like managing money. But, I still want to be a writer, and I still want to create, and I still want to be recognized for it.

I keep having a recurring dream where I just quit work, and focus on writing for six months. I know a true writer should give it more time than six months, but in my dream, that’s all I can afford. And in that six months, I tell myself, if I don’t write something that I consider worthy to be published, then I’ll never write again. I don’t know if I should give myself that ultimatum or not, but it is something that I’ve been thinking about a lot.