Oneself

Jan. 19th, 2015 12:36 am
abrynne: (save me)
[personal profile] abrynne
Being in a situation like mine, it becomes more and more difficult to keep oneself occupied. Finding any kind of purpose or task is hard. It usually has to be physical, cleaning the bathroom, doing laundry, working on a puzzle. When I am too tired for anything like that or I can't think of anything else, I usually end up lying on my bed and watching TV.

Moving a TV into my room was a good idea. But then again it probably wasn't either.

I watched Julie and Julia today. I don't know why I like that movie. Well, yes I do. I know why I like it. In spite of the grating character Amy Adam's plays in that, I am drawn to the story about two women who were determined to finish something, and when they finally did it paid off in spades. Not only that but they found/fed their passions in doing that something.

I also have a soft spot for stories about writers getting their break. Whenever I see Jo March in Little Women open that package at the end of the movie, or Julia Child open that envelope from the publishing company, I always get a thrill for them.

When I saw that scene in Julie & Julia today, it got me thinking about how I've just been drifting here for the past nine months. This is the longest I've gone without a job since I was eighteen. This is the longest I've gone without writing anything substantial for many years also. At first, I felt like I lost it. I lost my motivation, whatever that was, to write. And not only that, I lost my creativity - whatever it was that allowed me to write in the first place.

Watching that movie today made me want to be able to write again. But I'm afraid that I can't. At least not how I used to. So, then I asked myself, why do I want to be a writer? Why?

So I can be the next J.K. Rowling and make a gazillion dollars off of my children's stories?
No. One of the first rules I learned when I got into this was that you don't go into writing for the money. The odds of anything like that happening to me are astronomical. If I can ever make enough for me to live on that would be miraculous in itself.

Why, then?

Because it is far too interesting inside my brain to keep it all to myself? Possibly. Writing does help me express that.

There is a high I always get when I'm first writing a new story down whether it's by hand or otherwise. It is a thrill like nothing else. I haven't experienced that in a long time. I still probably won't for a while because of how tired I always am.

But I think today I learned that at least the desire, the motivation is still there inside me somewhere. Hopefully I'll be able to act on it again.

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