Reality

How long can I be consumed in my reading, writing, and research before I face the reality that I need food to write and I need money for food? Of course I know this already, but I have eagerly invested in my writing as I've waited to hear back from job situations. I just got off the phone with a particular coffee shop who is in no need of a barista, at least not a brand new one, which I thought would be an ideal employment for a writer. Thankfully I have had other odd jobs to hold me over, but I am afraid without consistency, my authorship of this blog will only be filled with complaints of hunger pangs and the wedding, shower, and Christmas gifts I cannot buy, not to mention perhaps I'd have to sell my computer which makes this "dream" possible.

The good news is, I may be on my way to accomplishing a key component of what it means to be a "struggling writer." After only a few days, I am encountering the struggle, though I cannot yet boast of much achieved poverty while still sitting here, in an air-conditioned house, with good health, paid payments, and painted finger-nails.

But there is a reason I am willing to do this. I would like to be a writer, and I believe that there is hope I will write something worthwhile. I am thankful that it is not easy, because then it would be too good to be true. What a relief it is not! It is actually difficult--that is how I know it is realistic.

Besides the circumstances screaming I am foolish, I have several reasons to hope, and I will describe a couple. Today I have been continuing to write a children's story which I made up at the request of my six-year-old sister and began to write last week. She begged me to tell her a story, an original, before she went to sleep, and so there I sat, pouring my heart into telling a story that would both entertain and edify her. At the end of the story, disappointed in what she believed to be the wrong ending, she exclaimed, "I thought this was going to be an exciting story!" Who says your family loves everything that you do? (I can tell you exactly who did. I read it on a website yesterday!) Perhaps some might be discouraged with such a response from the first audience of her creation, which for a moment I was, but I soon became glad of it. Her I thought this was going to be an exciting story confirmed every laugh, look of suspense, and complete attention she had offered throughout the rest of the story. I had found an honest critic!

The further encouragement I have to continue is my friend who is in this with me, though she has a regular job. Still, she has promised to spend hours of appointed times in which we will invest in our passion, hold each other to account, and praise and critique each other's work. Today we began. Not only did I work on my art for 3 and a half hours due to the fact she was doing the same, but I also received the gentle coaxing of a friend that we will enjoy all of the blessings and strains of being a writer.

Finally, I will review every memory I have of the teachers, relatives, and employers who have not only claimed me as I writer but urged me to use this gift. Corny I know, but I must repeat it to myself: I can write, I can write, I can write! And I will continue.