writing
Writing... It was something I hated to do when I was younger.
During kindergarten up to grade school, whenever the teacher asks what we all did during summer, I knew somewhere along the way, she would make us write an essay about it. Essays that tried to make it look like we had an interesting summer but actually, it was the same as last year, and the year before that.
I dunno when I started to write. Not good, if I say so myself. Finding my old stuff still makes me cringe when I read them today. But I wrote. And wrote. And wrote. Writing down ideas and scenes that form inside my head. Admittedly, most of the time, this happened when I'm in class and I'm bored to death.
I guess the passion started there, when I wanted to escape reality and be in my fantasies. When everything is not going well, I'd make myself feel better by writing, and imagining myself in that world that I'll never be in for real.
Because this continued on, I ended up choosing creative writing as my course in college. Well, that and journalism. In the midst of my journey through studying and learning about creative writing, I realized that journalism wasn't for me. I guess fate intervened during my application because journalism was initially my first choice. But certain circumstances happened and I ended up choosing creative writing.
This was where the real test began. When I wrote back in grade school and high school, I always received praises for my writing. It was because in a class of 50 something students, there was only a handful who actually writes, and writes good. Yeah, I can actually call myself good. I think I can say that my writing is good.
But upon stepping into college, and everyone in the class is a writer, I felt just how mundane my writing was (I think it still is), and how insignificant I was as a writer. Everyone had some sort of writing achievement. I had tried to join contests or the school's newspaper staff before, but I never won or got in. Rejection and criticism were my enemies back in GS and HS, and they continued to haunt me even in college.
Maybe that's the problem with me. I don't like making mistakes. So when my works are criticized, it hurts to hear and grudgingly accept the errors I've done. Until now, I think it's still the same for me.
Which is why I've only let a few people read certain works of mine. Because I know these works are good. Not the best, mind you, but enough to be accepted as good writing. That somewhere along the way of my writing, something good came out as a result. That I wasn't bad of a writer, that I can write stuff that people will read.
Part of me still dreams to publish a book one day. I believe I'm still young enough to achieve that. That I can come up with something that is worthy enough to be turned into a book to be sold.
But another part of me takes in reality, that in this world that contains a lot of awesome writers who spew out incredible and amazing works, I might just end up at the bottom of the pile, forgotten.
The future is somewhere along the corner. I don't know what may happen. No one knows really. Who knows? Maybe I can actually make something good enough.
But will I ever find myself as one of the best writers? No. I think that'll forever be in me, that I'll always find myself ordinary and just good. Same goes for my writing.
Lol I don't even know why I'm posting it here. I don't edit anything I write, especially a post like this. No one will be able to read this anyway because I rarely advertise that I have a blog of some sorts.
I just thought that I had to put this down in writing because of an article that a friend of mine linked to me. The author was a ghostwriter of Sweet Valley High, a series I used to follow when I was younger. She talked about ghostwriting, as compared to "real" writing. She also spoke how she was like Elizabeth most of the time, and other times, like Jessica.
What she wrote just got me thinking about my own writing. How I'm still uncertain about it (among other things) even after graduating from college. How I think I'll never get over my fear of rejection and criticism. How I'll continue on wondering if I'll be able to publish a book in the future...