MICROSKIRTS
329
viewsWell, hello there. It's nice to see you!
By Erin Davis, Thursday, March 18, 2010, 4 commentsSince this is my first blog, I thought I should let you in on why I wanted to begin blogging. I've decided that this is the year when I will get my life back on track. (Oh, how far I've strayed from any plans I once had for myself!) I want to do things every day that I have been afraid to do in the past.
And now for a little background story...
I was 8 when I decided that I was going to be a newspaper reporter. (At the age of 26 I would just about kill for the unfaltering clarity I had back then.) I worked at writing and worked at it some more, and by the time I reached my senior year I was the editor of the school newspaper. I got a scholarship to a private university, St. Bonaventure, and decided to major in journalism.
I can pinpoint the exact moment when any romantic notion I had of becoming a news writer was crushed. It happened during a mid-semester evaluation sophomore year...
My advisor (who I had taken only one class with) told me that I was a good writer, but I DID NOT have what it took to be in daily journalism. He recommended that I find something else to do with my life if I wanted to be successful. I didn’t have good sense at that moment to ask him to elaborate. I remember pretending like I understood and maybe even agreed, but when I walked out of his office I cried for a long time. The world was wide open until I heard those words, and then I withdrew into myself.
I transferred to a state school, SUNY at Fredonia. I couldn’t bear the thought of spending another two years at SBU let alone under that professor’s advisement. The tuition would be cheaper and there was a sea of people to get lost in, unlike SBU where everyone knew everyone… and their business. I figured I could use the anonymity to find myself and a new calling.
I changed my major to English and set about fulfilling the requirements to get my degree. I stagnated and inevitably lost focus, for reasons that belong in another blog. The guiding force that my childhood dream provided vanished and I spun directionless amongst all of those people. I almost didn’t graduate. I had to push myself hard to stay in school, simply to finish what I had started.
Somewhere along the way I abandoned writing for pleasure. As time went by, I would go through these spurts where I would be determined to do something, anything creative. But I just couldn’t. I would rather organize the closet, wash the dishes or poke my own eye out than to put anything on paper that someone else might read.
About a year ago my husband told me that the only person keeping me from writing is me. Pardon me, Mr. Davis but WHAT!? (I do adore him for being blunt, though sometimes that quality also makes me want to reach out and give him a good hard pinch.) His words stung, as most true words do. I disagreed and rattled off a thousand reasons why I couldn't write. I had writer's block, there wasn't anything interesting to write about and I didn't even have a decent pen and on and on.
No matter what I did I couldn’t finish anything. I would start journal entries and then leave them behind to do something else. I would write poems but they would fall to the bottom of my purse with all the loose tobacco, granola crumbs and gum wrappers. I would throw it all out and start a new journal just to throw it all out again.
It’s taken me that long to come to the conclusion that the only reason I stopped writing in the first place is because I was afraid of failure or rejection. It wasn’t until my husbands words made me actually think and analyze the real reason why I couldn’t write that I could truly understand.
Ultimately I’ve learned that I am the master of my own happiness. That professor may have been absolutely right but that didn’t mean I had to stop doing something that I loved. If I had been in the right state of mind I would have used it as an opportunity to grow and get better, but I’m not one to take the most obvious route. I always end up taking the long way around.
I've kept my inner 8 year old hog-tied and locked down for far too long. She is ACHING to tell stories and it’s time to set her free.
Bookmark/Search this post with:
4 Comments
Welcome!
What a great start. I can't wait to see what the newly freed you has to say. I am glad you have found a way back to yourself, that is a tough road to travel and you have made it! Good for you. ~ Laura
Welcome:-)
As writers, we are our own worst enemies from holding ourselves back out of fear of rejection and failure. I am so happy to hear that you have taken the steps towards "crossing over" into the realm of confidence in your craft and talent:-)
What you said hit home for me, because I too, am just now crossing over into this realm, one baby step at a time. All I have ever wanted to do was write and publish, and at almost 32 years of age I have just barely begun the process of putting my neck out on the line and sending out my work to publishers. And, I am also very new to Skirt and have just started blogging last week.
As the cliches go: "You go girl!!" and "Keep up the good work!!" I am looking very forward to reading future posts from you.
Welcome!!!! I look forward to
Welcome!!!! I look forward to hearing what you have to say! :) ~~Kim
this is great
we might be twins! i knew i was going to be a writer when i was 7 or 8 and since then have purused that dream, also becoming editor of my college newspaper. thats so sad that you switched schools just because some idiot advisor didnt know what he was talking about! writing of any kind, even f it is half assed poems or random journal entries can eventually add up to something. my favorite quote is "as a writer you have this trail of writing that is an account of yourself and who you are and who youve been"
and my boyfriend is painfully blunt too :)
Participate More