When I was a child, there were things I wanted and dreams I had, as one does. Dreams are a part of growing up. Believing you can achieve those dreams is also a part of growing up. It isn’t until you reach maybe your late teens that you realize most of those dreams probably aren’t achievable. This is the time in your life where you either sink or float. Picking a career path that you can be successful at. Well, I didn’t. Though at the time I thought I was.
The problem with that was I wasn’t fully matured and I didn’t KNOW myself the way I should yet. While other people knew what they wanted to do with their lives and had the passion to go out and get it, I was still developing, still immature, and not focused. I picked my major in college, and the entire time I was unsure if it was the right direction for me to go in. I’m lucky that it ended up paying off in other ways.
I attempted to write my first novel when I was like 8. It didn’t go well. I think I finished a couple chapters. I tried my hand at fan fiction when I was a teenager. That went a little better but I still didn’t finish it. My creative writing class in high school was successful. The teacher said I had a lot of promise. When I got to college and majored in secondary education with an English focus, I realized how much I loved it. Creative Writing and Grammar and Composition and English Literature Before 1600, those classes were my manna. And yet I gave it all up because I never considered transferring those credits into a straight English degree. I just knew that teaching wasn’t for me.
But the point of this post is not to go on and on about my mistakes. The point of this post if that I am envious of YOU, writers. Because you finish what you start. Because you have ideas and you plot them, and you outline them, and you finish them. I envy your brains because of the imaginations you have and the ideas you get. You write book after book and have entire bodies of work that belong to you and your readers.
I can’t do it. I am not hating on myself here, I just don’t think my brain functions this way. I used to think I was right-brained because I participated in all this artistic stuff! Drama Club, band, choir… but the book ideas never fully develop. I am going to TRY and participate in NaNoWriMo this November, but don’t hold me to that. I might change my mind. I have a few ideas but they aren’t fully developed yet, and I don’t know if I CAN develop them. But I am going to try! I really want to do this. I really want to finish what I start. FOR ONCE.
I edit because I love books. I edit because I love this community, and authors, and bloggers, and words, and grammar. Everything about it fills me with love. I’m also really good at it. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish I was a writer instead. Don’t get me wrong, I am completely content with what I do. And I always give 110% at it. But someday, I would really like to finish a book and publish. Even if I don’t make a single cent. I just want to have a book I can call my own with my voice in it. I want readers to give their opinions, good and bad. Because that means I made an impact.
So, authors, I am envious of you. I am envious of your imaginations and the power you have to shape minds and perspectives. Your words make a difference. And I hope you never forget that.