In high school and college I had an ambition to become a writer. I liked putting words together to create stories and share ideas. I was pretty good at it, too . . . not brilliant, and I needed a lot of practice, but I felt like I had potential.
But as I went through grad school, I started to think that maybe that wouldn’t be my profession. It was a slow process, but there was something I saw a lot of writers say that made me think about myself and whether I had what it takes. The idea is that you become a writer because you can’t not write. It’s not just something you like, or something you want to do. It has to be something you need to do. And I’m not sure I have that. I have to read . . . if I’m away from books and magazines and websites for more than a day or two I start to get itchy. But as you can see from the time stamps on this blog, I can go long periods without putting words together on a blank screen. I’m always thinking about things I want to write, things I want to say. Life, work, and the need to step away from those things and relax take the time and energy I need to get the words out of my head and onto the screen. I wish it were different, but I haven’t made the commitment to make it different. If I had a job where I had to write every day for a living, I think that would be different. But I don’t have the daily need to do it for myself that I would probably need to ever get myself to a point where I could get such a job.
I’m OK with that . . . I think that teaching and my family give me plenty of chances to do meaningful work with my life. But even if I don’t have the daily passion, I can’t stay away from writing forever either. So every so often I pull myself back to the keyboard. That time has come again. I promised myself that among the projects I would carry out over spring break would be to resume a rhythm of writing every day, at least for a while. So I consider this a warmup. Let’s see where we go from here.