This morning as I settled into the hunched-over-laptop pose that I form seven or eight hours a day, Mom says ‘Gretchen, lots of people want to be writers. Too many people, that’s why only some people actually get to do it.’
Maybe that’s true… but I’d like to hear about how hard people are willing to bust their ass to make it happen. And let’s face it, it isn’t really the sort of thing with a million doors open and employers saying, ‘Creative writers! Come one! Come all!’
So perhaps Mom is correct, maybe there are stacks of people that want to write. I don’t really see any benefit in worrying myself about this. Besides… life experience makes everyone different.
The way I see it, it isn’t about ‘wanting to be’ a writer. I bloody am one. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to get by doing just that…
so I’m just throwing this out there completely randomly, but in addition to all your fiction/creative projects, why don’t you work on a memoir? with all the traveling and crazy jobs you’ve had, I think people would be really interested. it probably wouldn’t take too long. i would absolutely read it, but then again we’re related 🙂
and mark and lynn have plenty of beds in nj, just a 20 minute train ride to penn station if you get tired of schlepping from CT on the apartment hunt!
ha! love you jess… great advice! plus with all the months ahead of my blog i reckon the combination of that with a memoir about my worldly antics just might work… 😉 xox