The beginning......

First off, I want any readers to know that I am not making any promises as to the depth of the material, nor the frequency with which it is written. I also may quickly run out of drama/craziness/potential insights to vent about. Second, I need to acknowledge one of my best and most supportive girls (who shall remain anonymous until she wishes to be otherwise), without whose assistance (poking, prodding, general nagging, eventual-exasperation-with-the-dragging-of-my-feet) this entry would never have been written.

I’ve wanted to be writer since I was a little girl. The written word has always enthralled me. I’ve always coveted the ability to transfer thought to paper, to seem witty, to create a story that allows other people to escape to world’s not their own. I get some of this thrill by editing others works or helping them with random college classes. At the same time, I have always denied my ability to do so on my own. I’ve used excuses to not try. “I don’t know what to write about”, “ I have no original ideas.”, “The ideas I have would be of no interest to anyone else but myself.”. Basically, generic ‘I can’t do it’s’. This is evident in my constant re-reading, spell and grammar checking of what I’ve written thus far. :P Really Katie, it’s a damn blog entry. Who gives a crap??? It’s to the point where I’m wondering if what I’ve said and the words I’ve used up to this point are really what I mean to say or if it’s what I think whoever might read this would think is good. Yeah, I’m pretty much a little nuts. Maybe a lot. :P

I wonder if my lack of confidence is just that: low self-esteem, or if it’s fear of success? I’m thinking it’s not fear of success. That’s pretty conceited. There are many people in this world better able to tell stories than me. (Hell, they probably have actual ideas!) I’m not expecting to be the next housewife-blogger success. Nor do I want to write a saga based on an erotic dream I’ve had. (Not that I have ANYTHING against Stephanie Meyer or the Twilight saga. If i’d had a dream of a beautiful vampire and a super-sculpted werewolf vying for my affections, you can bet I’d have PAGES of material.) or compare what little I have to say to the insane ability of J.K. Rowling’s (Mrs. H.P. herself) to completely immerse you into a world of witches and wizards. (My favorite series, BTW.)

Yeah, yeah, yeah….. I fancy myself to be a lover of literature, but I only use two pop culture references to emulate my points. Well, everyone has their literary influences. Mine just seem to run the gamut of fact, fiction, realistic, not-so-realistic, and complete fantasy. I’m proud to be a Harry Potter fan. The whole Twihard thing, I may be slightly ashamed of, however I believe this is my inner little girl’s way of living vicariously.

Anyway, back to the whole confidence/fear-of-failure thing. In the most recent past, I’ve aspired to be a book editor. Initially I thought it was a way to do something I love (READ), but maybe it’s more. Maybe it’s my subconscious desire to be in that world but not have to think too hard or put myself out there. Basically play a supporting role (something I do VERY well) vs. being the main character. Maybe I’m still just as at a loss to identify what I want to do with my life as I was when I graduated high school 12 years ago. Maybe, just maybe, I like to think of myself as being a profound thinker and am reading WAAAYYY too much into this.

Either way, I have someone special in my life who put forth the idea that I might not figure that out if I didn’t pick up a pen. (Guilty parties know who they are, Ms. JJD, soon to be Mrs. JJL.) This person also suggested that writing out my thoughts might be therapeutic. She may be right…. After all, most writers are neurotic in one way or another, no??