The Confused Writer

One of my favorite authors has always been Sarah Dessen. I’m getting older and kind of growing out of her books, but I’ll always appreciate the effect she had on me when I first decided that writing was what I wanted to do. I just read a blog she posted about how she abandoned a book she was writing because it just wasn’t quite right. That’s happened to me before. Sometimes I abandon poems or short stories because the idea I have in my mind simply won’t unfold, and instead of being okay with that, I blame my creativity. Say it isn’t as great or I’m kidding myself about writing. Anyway, after reading her post and a few of the comments she received, I realized that I am meant to do this. Writing is something that has completely taken over my life and there’s nothing I enjoy more than creating different worlds. I may not be the writer I’d like to be just yet or the writer I see myself being, but there’s a whole world I haven’t seen or experienced. My writing will develop with time. It isn’t fair to talk myself down after all of the beautiful things I’ve written…the things I’ve created. I’m proud of myself for coming this far, but it’s scary. My future is so uncertain and there’s so many things I’d like to do, but all I can ever ask myself is how? How will I get there, how will I do this? How do I get myself out there? I put a lot of pressure on myself and these last few days have felt like a death sentence, but I feel a bit more hopeful right now. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I can no longer let anger consume me for the things that didn’t happen. Maybe they’re just not meant to yet. Either way, I’m excited to continue on the path that I’m on. I’m excited to be the writer I’ve always envisioned myself to be. Now if only I can figure out how to get published…


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