Optimism, opportunisme, dreaming.
I don’t know what to call that feeling, that I had when I just came out of school. You know that feeling of : I’m gonna change the world, the world is mine to explore.
I’ve lost that feeling a long time ago.
Don’t get me wrong I do still dream and hope. I am just planted more firmly into the forest floor of reality. A healthy dose of both keeps me,… alive?
I see young writers fighting and complaining that the road is hard and long. Everyone wants their spot in the pro writing world. And I do understand. I think it’s a wonderful goal. But don’t you think some might need a spoon full of reality, to go with that dream?
It’s hard work! You need to train hard, like an athlete does. Find your
weaknesses and work on them. Become even better at your strengths. You can’t expect to be a gold medalist from day one. You might want to fall before getting up, just to learn a valuable lesson. And when you are done, do it again.
Make sure there is bread on the table and electricity on your laptop. Life doesn’t take a break just because we want to write. Hell no!
Dreaming however, makes me write. It makes me write every day.
Sometime reality is dry and tough to shew. I want some sweetness to go with it.
I write stuff I can’t do, because I want to do them. And it hurts when reality pulls me back from my story. It is actually painful to be in this body that won’t run, dance, or jump. But I dare to dream.
We write at any opportunity we get, because we love it.
And that is something we never want to forget.
We love writing.
It is still about the writing. Is it not?
Optimism. Well, ain’t that a bitch. (mind my language) I dare you to see the good in
everything. I’m not telling you, you can’t be unhappy. I’m not telling you everything happens for a reason.
Try and be positive about every crappy thing in your life. I’m telling you to try and make a bad thing less crappy, by making it into something you can work with.
You can’t write, have no inspiration, just noticed you wrote 150 pages about the wrong story, your hands hurt so much you can’t hold a pen, you feel like the world is sitting on your head. Yes! I SEE A GOOD THING IN EVERYONE OF THOSE SITUATIONS. (None of the above explain any of my daily troubles. Oh, I wished the did.)
After all I’ve said and written. I smile at the optimism, opportunisme and dreams of those youngsters passing me by. And sometime I wished, I could be just like them.