Am I a writer yet?
On the cycle of following and abandoning your dreams
I will forever regret being the reason my family’s computer died, sometime while I was in middle school, taking all our files and documents with it. I’m not sure what killed it. Perhaps a virus from a few too many visits to the illegal movie streaming websites I frequented. Who’s to say. All I can remember is that one day the computer shut off and never turned back on again. Being its most frequent user, I blamed myself. Fortunately, the computer had been old, and maybe it was its time anyway. I don’t remember getting in trouble for this or even being confronted about it. Instead, my dad went out and bought us a laptop to share as a family, which ended up being a treat in comparison. I was now able to take the computer out of its infamous “computer room” and into my bedroom, much to my parents’ chagrin. Despite their rules, such as no laptops in my room overnight, their attempts to limit my time with parental controls, and groundings that always revolved around banning me from being online, the laptop had essentially found its new home on my bedroom desk.
I loved the freedom of the laptop and admired its sleekness too. I didn’t know anything about computers at the time, so it may not have even been the nicest or newest model. But it was pretty, particularly compared to our clunky old computer. Unfortunately, the death of the computer came with the loss of my writing up until that point. To my knowledge, my dad never tried to recover anything on the computer. I don’t think either of my parents used it much or kept anything important saved on there. This was the mid-2000s after all, and I don’t think many of us had considered the computer to even be a reliable source of storage.
I’ve loved reading since I was very young and felt naturally drawn towards creating characters and worlds of my own. I wrote about pioneer girls living next to emerald-coloured lakes, and the struggle of being a pre-teen in middle school. Many stories were in the form of diary entries, and I sometimes crafted multiple characters and wrote from all their perspectives. I don’t think I was overly creative at the time – much of what I wrote about was inspired by what I read: The Dear Canada books which used fictional girls’ diaries to convey real world events in Canadian history, The Clique Series by Lisi Harrison, and Little House on the Prairie. I wrote what I knew, which at the time really wasn’t much. Most of my characters were mirrors of myself, my thoughts, fears, and ambitions. I wish I could read them again. The only novel to make it out somewhat unscathed was a short book that I wrote (and finished!) about 5 middle school girls (or 5 middle school cliches): the prep, the nerd, the skater girl, the emo, and the popular girl. I had sent parts of this book to an internet friend to read, and so some of it was recoverable.
On second thought, maybe it’s fine that a lot of my old writing is no longer accessible…
Before I started university, my goal was to be an author. I wanted to finish a book by the time I graduated, and have it published. I thought maybe I’d be among some of the world’s youngest authors, clearly unaware of those who had made it before me. Long story short, I never published anything, not even to this day. And when I entered university, I stopped writing almost entirely. Things got busy, and aside from a year or two of participating in NaNoWriMo, the only things getting written were the essays for my classes. I don’t remember this time super well now, at least not from a writer’s perspective. I’m not sure why I wasn’t writing so much. I know I was busy; school took up a lot of my time and I worked part time on the weekends. But I did choose to take on other things. I still read quite a lot, and I volunteered for a few different groups on campus. I guess I can say that I was missing some inspiration.
In the last few years, I’ve started to really evaluate my goals and dreams as a writer. I still read a lot, and seeing some authors my age or younger than me getting published makes me feel insecure at times. I think I’ve honestly been lazy in a lot of ways, not only not putting in the work to just write, but not even looking into what might make someone’s writing good.
In the past year, my partner and I have gone to a lot of writing workshops put on by our library. From poetry to short stories, I’ve started to immerse myself in different kinds of writing. I’ve participated in NaNoWriMo again in the last two years and have now started writing a short story collection. This is an entirely new form of writing for me. I’ve mostly dabbled in writing novels, and I know I need to research more on what makes a good short story. But I’ve found it to be an intriguing avenue for getting across various ideas through multiple characters and settings under one theme.
I want this blog to be an exploration of my writing and research. I want to document my writing process, talk about my ideas and failures, and maybe use it as a sort of journal as well. I might write about some of my other interests too; I’ve been really into movies lately and have been trying to write more thoughtful film reviews when I feel particularly moved by something I’ve watched.
I have a pretty bad track record of sticking to my goals. I’ve given up on a youtube channel (that I’m hoping to come back to!), started and re-started workout routines at the gym, and even now am struggling to be consistent with my writing. I always feel like I’m running out of time. I’m hoping this (somehow?) keeps me accountable, and allows me to practice a different kind of writing. If you’re a writer, reader, or someone who is also trying your best to stick to a passion project, I hope you’ll follow along, and maybe together we can commit to our goals and dreams.