Spring break has started and here I find myself sitting at my house with my cats and dogs waiting for the rest of my family to come home. This week isn’t my siblings spring break so I fear I will find myself with a lot of extra time this week, which I am really okay with because this is going to give me a lot of time to start on my new projects, primarily my new Etsy Store (CraftNirvana) and with my collection of short stories I’m hoping to publish on amazon. This week will also be slightly dedicated to looking for a job because I have a house to pay rent for starting in a couple of months.
A lot of me is wondering what constitutes enough short stories in a short story book to be considered “long enough” to be published. A smaller portion doesn’t care, but I don’t want to put anything out there unless I know it is perfect. This idea of perfection is where a lot of my own blocks come from. Writing and re-writing the same story over and over again is something that I have always done and I hate that I fall into that cycle.
Being able to find the right amount of happiness with my own stories is a daily struggle. They never seem good enough to me, which most of my friends and family reassure me that they are. My own opinion of my writing might never change, but that is okay. I have a feeling I am not the first artist to doubt my talent/ creation and I doubt I will be the last. The important thing is that you continue to create despite what you think of your art. In the end, the biggest critic of your creations is going to be yourself.
And sometimes you need to tell yourself to shut up and be glad you made something today.
Like any struggling artist, I yearn for my work to be recognized. However, the road is a long one and during that time there will be some hardships.
I recently made the decision to no longer pursue psychology and instead focus more on theater and creative writing. It was a hard decision to make because theater and english are not the easiest degrees to obtain jobs with; however, I know that I would rather focus my attention on something that I love to do, rather than force myself to study something that is only interesting to me. Psychology will always be something that I love, but having a career in it is no longer something I want.
Changing my mind about careers and majors hasn’t been my only struggle. Finding a job, writing short stories, homework, theater, finding time to sleep…. This semester has been rough but there are some upsides:
1) I am going to be studying abroad in London next fall!
2) I have a house to live in next year
3) I have wonderful friends and family who support me
All the pieces are in place for success, I just need to find a way to put them together.
I have been working on a novel since I was in eighth grade. That’s a long time considering I’m a sophomore in college now.
And yet, I haven’t given up because writing is the best and worst thing I have ever done. Writing is supposed to be hard because imagination and inspiration yearn to be seen, and we as adults (I use that word loosely) tend to overlook the wonder of the world. As children we have the endless energy and ability to create without fail. Somewhere along the way, however, we tend to lose this. My goal in life has been to keep that wonder and writing has been the best way to find it again.
Inspiration is everywhere; be it in the tree in your front yard the or needle sitting on your grandmother’s sewing table. Stories live within every crack and nook and cranny of our lives and they yearn to be seen and heard.
But finding that inspiration is hard. Even when it stares you in the face we tend to overlook the details and see only the big picture. I want to find those details again and recreate what I have lost: my inspiration.
Lately I have been trying to write short stories and it hasn’t been going well. I find myself staring at a notebook or at my computer screen for hours wanting something, anything, to manifest onto the page. And yet, its when I least expect it that I find myself living in the world of my character and writing an endless amount of words.
Finding the time to write is only half the problem, the other half is letting go of your expectations and just write what you want to write without feeling self conscious about it.
Blogging is something that I have been trying/wanting/failing to do for years now. I can’t guarantee that this one will be any different, but I am trying, again, to build up a website. Blogging is harder to maintain than most people will tell you and it’s unfortunate that even the most creative of writer’s, artists, musicians, etc. struggle to express themselves in this format. Though, it could just be me.
There are a lot of things I plan to do with this blog, but committing to it will be hard for me. I will most likely forget that it exists in a few weeks and then find it again a year later.
I can’t promise much, but I can promise quality and fun.
Courtney, the non-committed blogger