On Wanting to Write
And actually doing something about it
I’ve wanted “to write” for some time now. But things, life, keeps getting in the way.
The need to make money so I can afford a life that lets me indulge my interests. That has been one of the biggest obstacles to writing. How to chisel out hours to emerge yourself in thoughts and put them in some coherent order. When I ask myself how successful writers do this day after day, the answer is always “Well, they get advances, they can afford to set out on the journey -someone else is paying.” But for those of us just starting, it is blind faith. Will we be sufficiently successful to have made this all worthwhile? But even as I write this I realize how silly it is. I started a business. That took no less commitment or as crazy a jump as I need myself to make now. I just need to get on with it.
Then there is the question of what to write about. I live in a vibrant world - mountains literally greet me when I wake in the morning, I see bears, deer, ground hogs all around me, there are stories from my work with dogs, and of course there are people all around me. And yet the question remains, “What can I write about”.
Tied with the former is my worth and value as a writer. What can I possibly say that has not been said, far more eloquently before? Who am I to think I have anything to contribute to an already overflowing cornucopia of incredible tales.
And so I give up. I walk away without even trying.
Except today. Now is different. I’ve done two things. I pitched a regular dog training column to my local paper. And I’ve entered a writing contest. Stay tuned.