I had to write a reflection on the fiction chapter for my creative writing class. After I was done writing and editing it, I realized how closely tied together my life is with my thoughts about writing. My feelings about how I need to change and grow as a writer directly correspond to how I doubt myself as a person.
I always wanted, no wait…needed, to write. As far back as I can remember, I had journals and notepads lying around my bedroom that held story ideas, dialog, character names and outlines of their lives. I was going to be a writer or bust. Somehow, somewhere, that dream got lost for a long time. Buried in an unorganized closet in my brain.
I started blogging in September 2007 and with it resurfaced my passion for writing. It was like getting back together with a fabulous lover after a prolonged break up. Intense. The words drew me, lured me in. I was hooked. I couldn’t get enough. And it’s been an unstoppable love affair ever since.
Fiction has always been my elixir of choice. I love that, through writing, I can bring to existence people and events that otherwise would never be. You know that person who insulted you and you thought of the perfect comeback only, it was hours too late? I love that it isn’t like that when you write, unless you want it to be. It’s kind of a turn on to string words together to evoke whichever emotion I summon and for it to have the desired effect.
Paper and words are the only way that anything truly goes. Anything you want to happen CAN in your made up world.
In taking the creative writing class, I’m trying to be more fearless in my writing. I’m trying not to doubt myself because that is the one thing that has always held me back…doubt. I know that I’m a decent writer but I want more than that. I NEED more than that. I realize that there is no stopping the growth of a writer. It’s an unending process. You can be too skinny and perhaps too rich (although, I don’t buy into that one) but you can NEVER be too outstanding of a writer. Which, I’ve realized is reflected in my real life too. A little too worried and doubtful of myself and how I fit into the world.
What I’ve learned so far? I have a lot to learn. I’m not good at writing on the fly, I need to be able to really think about what I’m going to write before I actually set to it. I also learned that I’m not as creative as I’d like, especially under the pressure of being in a classroom setting(not that I feel so much pressure), that the ideas don’t just come to me that I have to mull them over first. Which is exactly like my day to day life. Decisions don’t come easily and when I do figure out something, I wonder if I made the right choice.
The one constant is the fact that I have to write. I have this strong need. This lump in my throat that is filled with words and stories must find a way to come stumbling out through my fingers and display itself on the screen. So, until I am confident enough to do this, I will keep popping up in all the creative writing classes that I can find. Maybe, after a time, my writing AND my life will be more fearless and free-spirited.