The Beginning of Something

I've begun my writing career. This is not to say that I have gotten anything published, established an audience other than those who read my facebook statuses, or gotten paid one penny for my words. Still, if there is such a thing as a writing career for me, then it must begin not only with writing, but with making decisions to commit more of my life to it, which I have done.

I have quit my 9-5 job with a salary and benefits because it is not my passion. I have changed my living situation, living with my family for free instead of with a roommate for a monthly bill. I have decided to work only the hours necessary for me to scrounge enough money to get from today to tomorrow and to only work at a place that provides inspiration and encouragement for writing. There are those heroic men and women who have traded sleep, relationships, and probably their entire personal lives for the sake of their art. They might work up to 60 hours a week and write a miracle book on the side. I am not one of these people. I am not quite so strong.

That is why this is a scary situation for me. The strange thing about writing is the line between crazy and respectable, between bum and achiever. There is no minimum wage accountability. My friends may eventually wonder why I am a college graduate who spends half the day inside my house at a computer holding a coffee cup. Why does she drive that car with the ripped up ceiling, the discolored back end, the broken air conditioning, and the constant uncertainty of whether or not it will drive when I put the key in the ignition? Why does she live in her family's basement and tell me again why she quit a job in which she could have made so much money? Because I am a writer, at least I want to be, I will tell them. What being a writer means I will learn, and have begun to, and I am determined to find out. I am determined to discover why I am passionate about writing and to whom my writing belongs--children, women, people of faith, every one, no one. We will see.

Carpe Diem or Live the Adventure, the new one to inspire me. I have clung to these phrases as I've plunged into the structureless zone of joblessness and spent the past few days facing what it means to be a struggling artist. Thankfully, I have managed to survive several job interviews. Meanwhile, I am writing, I am reading, and I am reading about writing. It has not taken long to see that the adventure is not what it sounds like. The accomplishment of a dream is not for the lucky. It is for those who take risks and willingly suffer the consequences, and when they realize that every victorious moment has behind it grueling hours upon painful minutes of discipline and perseverance and discouragement and the constant question of whether or not it is time to turn back, that is when they decide still yes--I will take that first step and then the next. At least I hope that this is true, because I have decided to pursue writing with my whole heart, though failure is always a lingering question.

And it is painful. I want to take a nap. I want to run away from the computer. I want to give up. I want to see how big the competition is and decide that I have no chance. Maybe that is true--maybe I am in fact just a dreamer wasting my opportunities by my faithfulness to words. Or maybe I will write something worthwhile. That is the question I will find the answer to--whether or not my writing career begins and ends with this blog about writing or whether someone will someday see this blog post as the first thing a certain author posted for a public audience--I and my one or two or maybe even more followers will see if I can write.