First Ramblings

There’s something simultaneously terrifying and thrilling about a blank page before you.

I’ve always loved it; as a small child with a box of crayons, as a preteen at my grandmother’s typewriter, as a young artist with some cheap watercolors, and even now, as a grown woman with a voice and something to say.

The problem is, I never quite know what I want to say. Sometimes I’m filled with the overwhelming urge to tell my story… I’ve even written it already. Other times I’m pulled towards creating a new story, something that’s never been told before. And then there are times that I want to tell other peoples’ stories. Tell me what to say and I’ll make it sound as eloquent and engaging as I can. 

I’ve done all of these things, most of them within the span of one week. I figure that writing for others will make me money that will allow me time to write about myself so that someday I can write about the fictional people that live in my head. I’ve always wondered if anyone would care what I have to say and now that I’m finally putting words on paper, I’m torn.

On the one hand, I want so badly for people to care. And on the other… what does it matter? So I’ve always dreamed of making a living as a writer. But if I never make a dime off of it (perish the thought), will that stop me from writing? Never.

I’ve gone long stretches of time without putting pen to page or font to word document for any creative reason (hello, school), but I am always writing in my head. I’m always planning a new story or a new angle or something… anything… that will allow me to exorcise all the things inside me that I so desperately want and need to get out.

Now I’m being melodramatic. But as a Leo sun and the youngest of 3, what else could you expect? As an outgoing introvert, I’ve spent my life vascillating between extremes: Look at me! Look at me! And: Please don’t look at me, nobody look at me.

I’m a dichotomy. But I digress…

After months of sitting on this blog and telling myself to STOP PROCRASTINATING, I’ve finally decided to say, Fuck It. I’m just going to write what I want to write. I expect sometimes I will write chapters of a book I’ve been working on for 3 years and sometimes I’ll tell my story and other times I’ll beg more important people than I to hire me to write for them.

I know I have a voice. And I know I have a story to tell. Whether or not anyone is listening, well… that’s up to you.


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