I Can Really Do This

All my life, I’ve wanted to be a writer.  In another time, a different generation, I was told, “That’s not a dignified enough profession for a lady.”  So I became a legal secretary.  It was a good decision that I don’t regret.  I made enough money to help support my family, and I loved the life experience.  The desire to write, though, never went away.

A few years ago, thinking my time had finally come to write, I started a blog, and recently I started this second blog.  I’ve written eight articles for an on-line magazine.  I gained a little confidence, but there was still doubt in my head that I could ever write a book.  I mean, who am I to think I could really write?  I didn’t have the opportunity to go to college.  Our local community college won’t even let me take a creative writing course because I don’t have the “prerequisites.”  (Interesting when I’m not asking for a degree, just one stinking class.)  So who am I to think I can actually do this?

I’ve had a children’s story in my head for many years, so I wrote it down, and someone will be illustrating it for me shortly.  So, big deal.  It’s a children’s story like I would make up to tell my grandchildren to put them to sleep, right?  That doesn’t mean I can really write, does it?

Taking a few deep breaths, I sat down recently to actually write a book.  It’s a young adult novel.  I was so scared!  You would have thought I was facing a firing squad!  Gently, I began pressing computer keys.  Should I do an outline?  Should I just type and see what happens? Who will my characters be?  Where will they live?  What will the plot be?  I had no idea. I just typed.

Amazingly enough, I actually wrote a chapter with some fair characters.  I walked away from the computer to wash the dishes.  The characters were developing in my mind.  Back at the computer, revisions were quickly made.  I wrote more.  Suddenly, things began to happen to these characters — they were becoming real people, with real ideas, and real problems. Each time I walk away from the computer, more ideas come racing into my head.

Is it really possible I can do this?  Me?  Can I really write?  Maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a pipe dream.  Yet there is fear. My dad always wanted a red convertible.  He told me one time that if he actually ever got one, it would spoil the dream.  He always dreamed big for that reason — like having the first hot dog stand on the moon.  Is writing my red convertible or moon dog stand?  Or is this something I was really meant to do?  Hmmmm!  I think I can really do this!  So — now what’s the new dream?


4 thoughts on “I Can Really Do This

  1. Love this! Sometimes it’s the fear of failure that prevents us from trying. Good for you to actually do what you love! Also, have you considered just auditing a creative writing course?

    • Thanks! I’d love to audit a class, but at the time they wouldn’t let me. It’s been suggested that I try an adult education class, so I might research that. Thanks for stopping by!

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