When I was in the first grade, the teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. I wrote down “writer.” (The girl next to me answered “editor.” I remember thinking that was a very sophisticated response.) The question was a no-brainer for me, coming hot on the heels of my kindergarten anthology The Lonesome Bird and Other Stories, a shared byline in the school newspaper, and a well-received report on parakeets.
I did become a writer (and editor), but not the kind I imagined when I was six. I had intended to enthrall readers with heartfelt tales that did nothing short of examine the human condition, elucidate universal truths, and elevate the planet. (Is there a word for projecting adult insights onto a child version of oneself?) Instead, I grew up to prepare educational, self-help, and marketing content. I have also edited other people’s fiction.
Not that I haven’t had ideas for stories, novels, and screenplays over the years. But they have lived and died in my head. (So at least I’ve been entertained.) This blog is about coaxing one of those ideas out of my brain and onto the page. My theory is that if I can put together at least a few paragraphs devoted to it on a regular basis, my idea will start to have faith in me. Through this blog, I am saying to my idea (à la ABBA), “Gonna do my very best, baby can’t you see; gotta put me to the test, take a chance on me.” (Watch the linked video; it will make you happy.)
Ba ba ba ba baa, ba ba ba ba baa. Honey, I’m still free . . .
Oh, my friend, you KNOW I am cheering you on.
Every word of the way.
Thank you, Julie! You paved the way.
Welcome to the public display of navel gazing. I wish you and your idea wings, dancing queens, and revolutionaries named Fernando. Julie C. sent me, and her streak of awesome remains unbroken.
Cameron, thanks so much for reading and for your good wishes!