It’s pretty rare for me to dig into my journal for some inspiration, but every now and then I’ll write something truly profound. Maybe, I even amaze myself with my wisdom… or at least I’ll get a good chuckle out of the philosophical meandering going on inside my mind.
“Alright, I couldn’t stay away. It’s been so long since I last wrote and I really missed it. I finished that book I was working on. It’s currently being reviewed by an editor. I’ve already had four rejection letters, which makes me A.) want to dig and burrow deep within the confines of my endless shelter of blanket and half-gallon pint of Mint Chocolate Chip Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream. But it also makes me B.) Feel like I’ve been initiated into the secret world of real writers. Even the greatest writers of our generation and past generations had to succumb to the will of an editor who tossed his/her masterpiece into the garbage without a shudder or second thought. Those things that were thought to be “garbage” by few, have in turn become literary classics to many. The literary world is a harsh and cold place full of rejection. But the modern world has created something else… a place where “everyone” thinks they can be a writer. And sure we have multiple outlets to express our opinions and ideas through the ever expanding world of the Internet, but just because you write something doesn’t make you a writer. Anyone can form a sentence and string words together, but a writer is something different. A real writer in their truest form has an inability to cope with life… all the things an average person can do like eat, sleep and bathe–even simple thought processes become an obsessive idea in the mind of a writer. An idea that until it is fully explained like a well-guided map on paper for others you feel as if you’ll die. You honestly couldn’t go another moment without the world knowing this one thing that you need to write. Writing is a way to grasp the human experience that no other thing can give us. We get that flickering glimpse into someone’s soul and you realize that you’re not alone. That’s what a good writer can do for me. Writers have a gift to bestow upon the world and that gift can never be mimicked by time or practice… it is natural and simple. It comes freely. I’ve been thinking about that lately. I quickly like to assume the role of “writer” but am I really? How do we go from the person who simply writes beautiful, even meaningful words to assume and be worthy of the position of “The Writer?” Can anyone be a writer through education and discipline? Or are there really people who are just naturally more gifted than others?”
Well that was the journal entry for today. I wonder if anyone else ever ponders those questions.