I've started writing again, thank goodness. It began with that story I mentioned being inspired to write a few days ago. Well, I haven't exactly worked on that story today. I've just begun something new, and I think this one may be it.
You know what? There's this boy I know at Morris. A lot of things he says annoy me, upset me, and generally make me indignant and (slightly) pouty. But the thing about this boy is that once I'm alone in my room, staring at a wall, everything he has said suddenly strikes me as incredibly (and sometimes painfully) truthful.
For example, he was reading my blog one day, and he told me that my writing was good here, that I was clearly having fun with my posts. He asked me if I had fun while writing my research papers.
Huh.
I do have fun writing my blog. And while my writing may be incredibly sloppy and unpolished at times, I think it's fairly obvious that I enjoy doing it. So maybe (I thought) if I begin stories with the intent to just enjoy what I write instead of with an intense desire to write something "really great," I'll actually write better.
It's a lovely revelation, and I only hope that it will hold. If Dan Humphrey can be published in the New Yorker at 16, then I can get published somewhere at 19.
Enjoy the night.
1 comment:
I've never thought your writing here is unpolished. I've always gotten the impression that you carefully pick out all your words and read over your entries, making sure they express what you want them to and nothing more.
Post a Comment