Once upon a time I was a writer. Once upon a time I was a published author. I guess you could say that I still am published as one doesn't just become "unpublished" one day. As long as there is the web, I'll remain published.
It's been months since I actually opened my current work in progress. But let's be honest, it's actually been five years that I've been working on my work in progress. The second to the first published.
Wish I could say that I had the passion for the story as I once did. But, that would be a lie and I promised to always be honest, even when that gets me into trouble...which so happens to be a lot because I really don't think very much before I speak and it's a circle of mass proportions I assure you.
So, once upon a time I used to be a writer.
There was excitement there once. But there was nerves too. It's not something I shouldn't from roof tops, although some might argue that I should. But the thing is, when you write for all to see, giving your self to it completely, there is that fear of rejection or in my case retaliation. And then there is the nagging fear that is, "what if I'm a terrible writer and people just lie to me to keep me from falling apart?"
That's the question. And that's the one that holds me back most of the time. But, should it? I mean, we say we shouldn't care, but don't we really? After all, we are afraid to admit to out loud our, *gasp* actual opinions. We don't really want to know what everyone thinks, but we work so very hard to keep them guessing, don't we? And then we pretend not to care when we ask for said opinions, but then fall aimlessly fall into a pit of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream when they do and we don't really like what that outcome was.
Truly, that is our largest problem with ourselves. We care too much what one thinks, says, does and ultimately what one feels about you. What if we didn't though? Wouldn't that be quite shocking to discover? Oh my gosh, I really don't care? And really meant it?!
Think of the excitement there. Maybe then I wouldn't be a once upon a time author, but an "I'm kicking ass at writing this book and don't really care if it's well received or not."
Tell me, is it possible? To not care?
My therapist tells me yes, but I also think she lives a sweet life where little bothers her and rainbows follow her everywhere.
I want rainbows to follow me everywhere.
Actually, I want a unicorn to follow me everywhere and an ice cream truck that play's "Ice, Ice Baby," as it trails behind me. I also want to have the same figure I had when I was seventeen and when a human being I gave birth to didn't push it to the extremes and gravity isn't so unkind.
Is that so much to ask for?
I think not universe.
And while we are at it, can I just have a proper pair of jeans that actually feel good to wear and make me look smoking hot?
Vanity at it's finest, ladies. I say that because I don't believe gentlemen actually read my blog, but if they do, then I stand correct and I admit I am wrong, to which no woman ever does because we are never wrong, right ladies?
And furthermore universe, can you make kale taste like cherry Sour Patch Kids, because I think I would eat it more and be able to convince my kid that it is good and not lie while gagging it down.
I suppose while your at it universe, you could send a lightning bolt down to my butt and kick me back into action so I don't have to write sob posts about once upon a time being a writer and actually be a writer?
Once upon a time I began to share my blog again. Once upon a time, I began to write. And once upon a time, I ate kale and hated it.
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