Well Color Me…..

My ramblings on the world in general and my life in particular

….Not a Writer

| 0 comments

I’m not a writer – not any more.  Well, lets be honest and fair, I was never a professional writer, but I did write.  I used to write all the time.  I was thinking about this yesterday at work.  A friend and I were talking about writing papers and she said how she always struggled with writing papers.  That was never a problem for me,  I could sit and write the hell out of just about any topic and get a good grade.  She said she couldn’t do that and always hated writing.  That when I started thinking about writing.  I used to LOVE to write.  I have notebooks, pads of paper, and countless files filed with stories.  If you look at my profile on fanfiction.net  I have 35 completed stories under my pen name (and one uncompleted one – sorry people).  Of those 35 completed stories, 16 are multi-chaptered, and a couple of those are novel length stories.  They’re not necessary novel QUALITY stories however, nor are they original creations, they are fan fiction.  I don’t care about that.  I loved the subjects I was writing about.  It didn’t matter to me if they weren’t mine originally, I made them mine.  I’m fairly positive Melinda Metz doesn’t mind sharing her characters with me – it’s not like I’m profiting from them or anything like that.

I even have a couple of rejection letters to my name for some original things that I’ve submitted.  And if you look on my hard drive, you will find a bazillion story ideas, a couple of half written books and a thousand false starts.  But I stopped writing one day, and I don’t know why.  It wasn’t the rejection letters.  Sure they hurt, but it’s not like I had any false illusions about my talent.  If I were to get published, that would be great, if I don’t, that’s okay too.  There are tons of ways to get my words out there if that’s what I want to do.  But I don’t seem to want to any more.  I still have stories to tell, but I seem to lack the motivation to write.  I don’t know what happened and I don’t know why, but it’s gone, and I don’t know how to get it back.  It’s November 28th, and I just realized that it’s NaNoWriMo and I didn’t even think about it until the other day.  That has NEVER happened to me.

In a way, it’s kind of like a dream I had died.  I’d always dreamed that some day I’d get published, much in the way I dream of winning the powerball or something.  The chances of either thing happening are somewhere in the likelihood of slim and none.  I always knew that and didn’t care.  I still play powerball, but I don’t write.  That dream is gone.  It’s died and I don’t know how it happened or why, and I don’t know if it can be brought back to life.

I’m saddened by the loss of this dream.  The death of any dream is a tragedy, but usually when a dream dies, a new one is reborn, like a phoenix to rise from the ashes of that lost dream.  Not this time.  I have NOTHING that has taken it’s place and I don’t know what to do about it.

How do you get a dream back, or replace a dream that’s died?  How do I write again?  Can I write again?

Share

Leave a Reply

Required fields are marked *.


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.