I must be thinking about writing the wrong way. I’ve always gone on instinct you could say. Writing has just been … there. But not really
When I was little, I had dreamt I’d be a dancer one day. Secretly, I had loved the way it felt when gliding on high toes with a perfect poise and a pretty dress. I had dreamt that it was my calling and that someday, I’d go to New York City. That dream didn’t come true.
When I was little, I had dreamt I’d be a fashion designer. I even had had an entire notebook filled with drawings of clothing that I’d sew and stitch together someday. I’d have an amazing line and go to (you guessed it) New York City to sell it. Become famous and then everyone would remember my name. That dream didn’t come true either.
When I was little, I never dreamt I’d be an author. I guess writing wasn’t entertaining to me back then. I found it tiring and boring even. I never thought it would become something I’d enjoy so much, something I want to do for the rest of my life. And there are just a couple things about it that make it great.
I love the idea of escape. It’s like when you’re writing, you are a different person at a different place and time. Instead of sitting home at the computer, you could be strolling through a park on a sunny day. And instead of scribbling in a notebook, you could be lying on a beach enjoying the breezy summer air. With writing you could go anywhere and be anyone.
People have always told me you can’t write about something unless you’ve experienced it. But what would be the fun in that? Writing about only your experiences would be unexciting because you’d just be reliving them … but on paper or the Internet. But maybe it’s true.
Maybe you can only write about something and make it real if you’ve gone through it. Naw, what am I saying? That’s the other part of writing. Making up a whole new world. Sometimes it could be real or other times coming completely out of your head. But that’s a good thing. You know what that’s called? Imagination of course.
Creating an event and emotions circling around that event when you’ve never even experienced that event is all about the fun of writing. It’s kind of like being someone you’re not. Pretending just like little girls who play dress-up and dream about who they’ll be when they grow up.
And sure, I’m not “all grown up” yet but that’s not stopping me from taking step after step until I am. Plus, it that means imagining events I might live or things I might do one day, I’m all for it.