The Triangle of My Dream Life, Part 1
Look at me. No, seriously, look at me. I want to be held accountable to someone besides myself because I’m not reliable. I give myself excuses and tell myself that what matters to me doesn’t matter, not really, in the big scheme of things. Little by little I’m losing hold of the things I want to do with my life and I want someone to call me on it.
There are three points to the Triangle of My Dream Life. One point: to excel in my homekeeping skills. Second point: to be an entrepreneur. Third point: to try my hand at writing. Of course there are other things I must, should, and can engage in, and those things take up the middle of the triangle, the part that isn’t occupied by the three points.
Today I’m thinking about the writing point of the Triangle of My Dream Life. I’m completely discouraged by it all. Here is how I see the hierarchy of the writing world (in reverse order) as it is today:
The people who use twitter are those who have nothing to say except talk about other people or tell other people what they’re doing at that specific time. They get 140 characters and in most cases that’s more than enough. Most times they don’t even write anything, but merely link to something someone else has written.
The people who use Facebook are a lot like the people who use Twitter, except they’re allowed more than 140 characters. Most times they don’t need even that many because it’s turned into a photo gallery of lives – lives we don’t really care about. It’s also a platform upon which people post clever and inspirational sayings written by someone else in an attempt to convince people those are the poster’s deepest feelings and sentiments.
Bloggers, for the most part, have more brains than those who rely on Twitter and Facebook as a means to express themselves. Okay, don’t get all up in my face claiming that users of Twitter and Facebook are not stupid; I know most of them aren’t, but that Kim Kardashian and Justin Bieber are ardent fans of the aforementioned platforms I can’t help but think they’re in the remedial class of writing. Blogging takes a little more thought and effort, and in most cases requires writing more than a paragraph.
When I talk about book writing I mean novels, collections of short stories, nonfiction, and scripts. I bow to the people who can write books, even though in this day in age nearly anyone can if they’re willing to shell out some money to self-publish. These are the people with guts, the people who have an idea they can express with a beginning, middle, and end. They are the people who do research and know how to punctuate.
Here’s the thing: I wrote an entire first draft of a novel back in November. I’ve toyed with it here and there but have not seriously taken time to rewrite and edit the first draft. What in the hell is wrong with me? I’m not spending time on Twitter or Facebook, and from what I can see I haven’t done much blogging either; I’m doing no writing whatsoever! I want to work on my story, but I’m not doing it. Why? I’m not working on the other points of the Triangle of My Dream Life either, which makes my situation that much more sad.
What I need is some inspiration. I read, which only proves to slap me in the face with a I know I can write better than that or a there is no way in hell I can ever write like that. Reading is entertainment for me, but not usually a motivational thing. What about how-to books on writing? I’ve read some Julia Cameron and quite frankly I found her approach trite and way too sappy. I have no idea if other books on writing would help, but I’d be willing to try some out.
They say (who, exactly?) if you are a writer, you must write. I haven’t been writing, so maybe I’m doomed to occupy the Twitter/Facebook categories of writing. If that’s the case just take a gun and shoot me now. I’d rather be dead than to have thousands of followers and “friends” to whom I make no difference. I want to contribute something of substance, something that intrigues, something that entertains, something that makes a difference not only to others but to me.
Can I do it? If you think I can, kick my ass into gear. If you don’t think I can, screw you, I’m still going to keep the dream alive…somehow.