12/365 All About Me

12. Explain why you chose your blog’s title and what it means to you.

I knew that I wanted to start making writing a priority in my life. For a period in time I just stopped. I’d have ideas or small bursts of inspiration but they would quickly subside, and I could never hold them in my head long enough to get it down on paper. When you’re in school writing is all you do. Then you get internships and it’s all you do, and suddenly writing feels almost like a chore. A thing that you know you’re supposed to do but keep procrastinating instead.

It’s an excuse and a bad one at that. Because if people are passionate enough and disciplined they push through because writing is part of who they are, or so it has been explained to me.”Brooke, if you want to be a writer you have to write every day. Every single day.” This is my dad’s piece of advice that he repeats almost daily. “Did you write today?” The question would haunt me and I would hide in guilt. In a way his badgering is what helped me decide to start this blog.

“See Brooke Write.” It’s an invite to anyone who can stand my ramblings, and almost a command unto myself. See yourself write. Watch it build every day until there is no more guilt, there is just the satisfaction in creating content again. There are a lot of people who wish they were good at writing but don’t necessarily wish to be writers. I don’t know why people choose to be writers anyway. Its a tortuous and self-loathing process. Filled with a lot of doubt and rewrites, and a great deal of time staring at blank pages.

Out of my close group of friends there is one other writer that I keep in  nearly constant contact with. She is one person that I can always turn to when I’m having writer’s block, and always understands what I’m going through. On a particularly rough writing day I sent a text to complain and she responded perfectly, “why couldn’t we have been good at something else? Like medicine? That would have been nice.” We both agreed that we should go back to school for something more useful, like math. But I fucking hate math. So it seems as if I’m stuck.

There is this great scene in a Helen Hunt movie where her son comes to her talking about a story he’s writing. “I’m feeling that I’m shit and you have the power to make me slightly less shitty and you won’t.”

“You’re the least shitty person I know.”

“Then why…”

“Because congratulations. You’re a writer.”

The movie is not oscar winning material or anything, but is filled with all of these short exchanges that really resonated with me as a writer, or someone who tries to write. Brenton Thwaites character tries to rise above the agony and worry that comes with hearing feedback on your piece to which his mom replies, ” Of course you’re going to agonize. You’re a writer, it’s agony.” And so it is.

It’s agony but what makes it worth it, for a moment at least, is when someone understands or appreciates a piece. To hear, “wow I really enjoyed that,” is just about the best feeling you can imagine. Perhaps writers are a particularly insecure breed of humans that can only survive on affirmations. Out of curiosity I just googled, “insecure writer,” and an online support group was the first result.  I think that speaks for itself.

Maybe it was my insecurity that kept me from writing for so long in any sort of public forum. You can say whatever you want about me. Hate my wardrobe, joke about my sometimes ditzy moments, but don’t say I can’t write. Please don’t say you hate my words because in my book that is about as personal as it gets.

My writing isn’t always pretty, almost always personal, but I like it. For the last eleven days there has been nothing to feel guilty about because so far I’ve tried every day. Creating content seemingly appears to be the only thing I’m good at, or the only thing I want to be good at. Its wonderful, and agonizing but from what I hear it is all fairly normal.


 

Day Twelve

 

photo credit: Remington – typewriter via photopin (license)

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