The
night was dark. My feels were stormy.
Due
to my inner emotional climate, I found myself parked in the middle of an empty
lot with only a street lamp and my writing note book to guide me.
Nothing
was working out. Nothing made sense. Therefore, nothing felt right, except…
“I
was born to write.”
Those
were the words I scribbled across recycled note paper.
In that moment, I accepted I was meant to express myself through written word. This
was not a new idea. Actually, it was the very thing I was told by others throughout
the years. I never received it, though.
I
come from working class roots.
In
that lifestyle hard, hands on, production birthed livable results.
Simply
put, writing was not something you did to pay the bills. It was a hobby.
I
needed to live.
The
parking lot scene was 2010. In 2011, I began taking writing seriously. I
enrolled in a few non-credit courses. I begin to submit my work for peer
review. In 2013, I met a young lady who would eventually become a close friend and
alpha reader. She started a group where we and another friend met
monthly to push our writing goals forward. They focused on non-fiction
. Me, I was all about a romance turned women's fiction novel I had toted around since early 2011. I was
eager to tell the story of career woman who had to make a difficult choice about
her love life.
That
was then.
Now,
much has changed. The novel has not. It’s still unfinished. It is a beautiful
WIP (work in progress) waiting to thrive.
Emphasis on word "wait-ing". The novel is barely hashed out with scattered scenes.
Sometimes, I look back on the last four years questioning if I ever really got
anything accomplished. Yes, I have submitted a short story here or there, but I
have not taken the plunge into completing my long piece nor officially publishing any of my
work.
At
what point do I accept that this author thing may not be working out?
Consequently,
I am reminded of a Tyra Banks interview where she explained how she had
given herself a specific time to become successful in modeling. Upon entering the profession, she committed to a year of trying with the stipulation of returning home for
college if things had not panned out in that time frame. Luckily, due to hard work and talent, her story quickly turned success.
I am
wondering if I should give my writing career the same structure. I had a goal
to finish this novel by the end of this year.
I
will give myself until that time to produce a sufficient rough draft. Next year,
I will publish.
If
not, I’ll have to accept writing is not the career for me. I believe this is
fair. If I have invested 5 years with no success, that’s telling.
If
things do not work out as planned, I will return to giving the day time gig my full attention.
I will seek out more promotions, snag an additional degree or two and
capitalize off my experience in the field.
Writing, will return to hobby status.
Sounds
simple, right?
Not
really. None of this spells easy. However, it is time to make the tough
decisions.
That is where I am at with my writing this month. To ACTUALLY be a writer or not? We
shall see.
Thanks
for listening!
Great
day, friends. Enjoy.
-T. Vernay
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