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#amwriting: a testimonial

  • Feb 11, 2015
  • 2 min read

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It's no longer a little known fact. My friends and family were the only ones, at first. I didn't want it to spread because sharing my work meant commitment. if I was writing a novel, I Was Writing a Novel. And I wasn't sure that I fit.

J.K. Rowling was the first one that introduced me to the boots, perched in the windowframe on a stepladder with woven technicolor scarves and christmas lights. They were all that was Glory. When I first started reading Harry Potter, we would stand outside staring in, laughing to each other and smiling at her jokes. It was the type of magic that came off of the pages, the magic that made a book about magic so special. But then, thirteen years and seven books later, she was inside wearing the boots and I was still outside, admiring her, admiring them--my smile started to fade.

For a long time, I gazed at the boots from the window and leaned against the glass that could've been a wall separating dimensions. I got as close as I could, I spread myself thin with arms opened wide, flat up against it. Shamelessly. I absorbed every word I read, judging my own abilities against other authors. It felt so much like I could fit in those boots, that I could pull them off with such grace like my friends.

But there was always this terrible, mocking voice in my head that said, "they won't look good on you." Self-Doubt. That motherfucking bitch.

#amwriting is a hashtag that represents the heartache, the discipline, the elegant torture that all author's go through. It's not merely a trendy clause, it's a death grip on your life. Those that use it, use it proudly.

The discipiline is hard. For example, Friends on Netflix. Orange is the New Black on Netflix. Netflix, period.

At night I sigh, light a candle, and get to work.

I #amwriting poetry, a collection of short stories, and 2 novels. I #amreading 6 books and starting a list of 300 to finish (by the end of the year?). And I #amhappy. Everyday, I spend time with my hopes and dreams. I cultivate them into a reality. Sometimes it is really shitty, like how playing naked in mud is fun when you're a toddler and then when you're fourteen it's not. There's not really an explanation, just a feeling of wrongness. That's what it feels like when all the words on that page (despite 2 hours of revision) are hollow. But the hardest part is not letting that maturity become a roadblock. Stay honest, stay open, stay imaginative, and see the beauty in the world.

So far, it's helped me learn what "being a writer" means and what being a writer means. Fuck you and your quotations, self-doubt. It's time to jump into the unknown and get those damn boots.

 
 
 

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