Did I actually just hit publish?

In sixth grade I filled an entire exercise book with crappy poems. In class, I covered every open space in my homework diary with little stories and thoughts instead of listening to the teacher. I lent said exercise book to a classmate back then, she moved away shortly afterwards and I never got it back.

In eleventh grade I started taking part in an online community where we were given a short paragraph every month and had to build a crime story around it. We commented on each others stories, rated them and in the end a winner was declared for each month. Never mind that it was a marketing move created to sell the book series and that I never won anything because the other people were adults and had much more experience in writing stories than I did. I loved the shit out of that community and was extremely sad when it was taken down because they had promoted all of their books.

In twelfth grade,  I rather jokingly declared during a PE lesson that I wanted to be awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature one day.

Here I am, about seven years later and I haven’t even written a crappy poem in years much rather a short story. Last night as I was about to fall asleep I suddenly had an idea for what I wanted to write but I didn’t get up. I knew I would forget what it was in the morning and I did. It wasn’t even that important to me anymore. But I also didn’t want to actually start writing then and there because that would have meant me being up well past my bedtime and I had to go to uni the next morning.

It is a strange feeling, finally having an idea you want to put on paper, to form, mull over in your head and expand into a whole story. For me, those ideas usually come at the most unwelcome moments – when I’m about to go to bed or cannot fall asleep. There is something about being in the dark, being tired but not too tired to think clearly that just screams writing moment at me. I usually don’t follow my instincts though because, as I said, the rare moments I feel like this are ill timed.

I guess I will never be the writer my 17-year old self wanted to be so badly. I haven’t even written a story in years much less do I possess the ability to write well or create interesting plots or follow through with anything. I cannot help but wonder if I traded in creative writing for blogging. Maybe not fully but at least to some extend. On here, I don’t have to write conversations, think of a plot that does actually make sense. Instead, I write what is on my mind and am fortunate enough to have people read and (sometimes) comment on it. Blogging is just so much easier but I do miss the fiction writing. I’d like to write something semi-biographic as I’m sure most writers do, they draw from their own experiences. I want to write mysteries and love stories and mush them together into one great novel but I feel like a phoney because what do I know about love and mystery plots? Everything I know comes from TV shows I watched and books I read.

Maybe one day, when I’m old and grey and actually have the time and experience to tell something interesting I will be able to do it. Until then, I will continue to bore you with trips down memory lane and random crap about my life, until then:

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow.

-Tina Fey-

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  • Why do you think .. that old people are grey *laughing – we are colorful both inside out. Don’t worry about that you can’t write deep and meaningful poems – I can’t neither and I don’t want to write a book neither and I have a great life.
    When you get old and grey – then you will be so busy travelling and … look after your grandchildren – no time for writing then neither. Just to accept that you want be published .. but you will have a fantastic life with loads of memories instead of lines.

    • I don’t believe in dyeing my hair so once it gets grey I will end up old and grey ;) And who knows what I will become once I retire or even have grandkids to play with…it’s just how I always saw it happening, being old and writing down my life’s journey or at least a part of it.

  • I still nurture similar dreams but then I realised man, writing is a lot harder than you imagine when you’re 17. Because writing isn’t about talent – you have SO much of it! It’s discipline and like any other art or exercise, it’s meant to be practiced daily. And let us be honest, ain’t nobody got time for that! Kidding! ;) dreams change and evolve as you grow. It doesn’t mean you’re a failure! Don’t feel bad about not having dedicated as much time to it as 17 year old you would have. You’ll get there if its truly what you want! Hugs. Whatever you choose, remember that you have a way with words. If not in poems, you’ll channel them somewhere amazing. I just know it.

    • It is SO much work and you cannot just sit down to write the next Anna Karenina, just doesn’t work like that, and I’m ok with it. I don’t think 17-year old me would be disappointed because she knew I wasn’t that serious, and she also didn’t have a internet flatrate, lol.

      But maybe, just maybe, one day one of us or both of us actually go through with this dream, or we end up owning a bookstore/cafe :) Hugs to you too. I miss you’re writing, btw ;)

      • Crossing my fingers for that moment, if ever it arises. Big hugs to you too. Been busy travelling and being lazy. Will get to writing soon, I hope!

  • Even if writing doesn’t turn out as a big thing in your life, for whatever reason, it can always be a hobby. One of those skills you never forget. Hopefully it can be one of those things where, when you’re sitting around with nothing to do, you can pick up a pen and piece of paper and write. Write a story or even a poem, and remember how much you used to love writing. Even if you decided not to pursue it in your life… :)

    • I cannot not write, just like I cannot not sing. Only instead of writing fiction and poetry like I used to when I was younger, I now write blog posts. Same same but different. Maybe I will get back to the other stuff one day but right now, there is not enough time to do all of it. Also, I lack inspiration :D

  • I may be a lousy reader and follower Ms. Upton, but outpourings like this never make me bored. I say, write away, grey hair or not.

    • You’re neither a lousy reader nor a lousy follower Ms. Addie. Rest assured, I cannot keep away too long from this blog, I really love it, so you will be treated to more ramblings and musings from this little blogger in the days to come.

  • Oh boy, can I relate to those ill-timed bursts of ideas. It’s the worst too, because in your mind you see these ideas as utterly genius. You think of these awesome narratives, and mysterious settings…but it is just as you have said…ill-timed. Like in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep. And it’s the worst when you decide that you’ll elaborate on the idea the next morning, and come to find that it really wasn’t as cool as it was the night before.

    I just wanted to say however, don’t give up on it! It’s a blessing that you get those kinds of ideas from time to time anyways. Those dashes of inspiration, those spurts of creativity. Just imagine when the day came that you no longer had those ideas to fuel your literary streak…

    • Better not think about that day when my imagination runs dry. But good to know I’m not alone with my bursts of inspiration in the middle of the night ;)