Everyone wants a spotlight moment. Every time I watch a TV show and someone comes out of nowhere and blows away everyone, making their wildest dreams come true in a matter of well planned minutes.
I really want to have that.
But how can a writer ever have a moment? How can anyone who sits behind a keyboard ever be in the spotlight? I beg to know the answer. I need that. I need to know what I do is not just wasting minutes of my life. I need to have someone tell me what I'm doing is the right thing. That wanting to be a writer is ok.
Because that's the only thing I ever knew how to do.
I was never a good singer, never the best in school, never a good ballerina, never a good daughter, sister, never good enough to do anything. But I could always write. It is more natural to me than breathing. It is the only time when I feel like me.
But what's the point, if I will never get recognition?
I'm not trying to be bigger than Tolkien and Hemingway, I just want to be me.
The first time my mother told me I am running away from real life by escaping into my stories, I did not write a single letter for five months. And those were the hardest days of my life. After that, I knew there was nothing else for me to do... But write.
Still, years later, I feel the knot in my stomach where my confidence once was. And the sinking feeling I get every time I remember all the words I write will never be read by more than a handful of people. I ask myself:
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the tears I get every time one of my characters cry? Is ti worth the pain I feel when they lose someone who was their anchor? Is it worth the unnamed feeling I get when I realize their happy moments are not actually mine?
I just want my spotlight. I don't want to get anyone else's. I don't want to be someone else, I only want to be able to do the thing I've been doing the past lifetime.
I know If I were ever to stop, I would be lost. End of my writing would be the end of me because we are just two halves of one whole: Just as my stories do not exist if I don't write them I don't exist if they are not there within me, guiding me.
And again I wonder: Is the spotlight really worth it?
I really want to have that.
But how can a writer ever have a moment? How can anyone who sits behind a keyboard ever be in the spotlight? I beg to know the answer. I need that. I need to know what I do is not just wasting minutes of my life. I need to have someone tell me what I'm doing is the right thing. That wanting to be a writer is ok.
Because that's the only thing I ever knew how to do.
I was never a good singer, never the best in school, never a good ballerina, never a good daughter, sister, never good enough to do anything. But I could always write. It is more natural to me than breathing. It is the only time when I feel like me.
But what's the point, if I will never get recognition?
I'm not trying to be bigger than Tolkien and Hemingway, I just want to be me.
The first time my mother told me I am running away from real life by escaping into my stories, I did not write a single letter for five months. And those were the hardest days of my life. After that, I knew there was nothing else for me to do... But write.
Still, years later, I feel the knot in my stomach where my confidence once was. And the sinking feeling I get every time I remember all the words I write will never be read by more than a handful of people. I ask myself:
Is it worth it?
Is it worth the tears I get every time one of my characters cry? Is ti worth the pain I feel when they lose someone who was their anchor? Is it worth the unnamed feeling I get when I realize their happy moments are not actually mine?
I just want my spotlight. I don't want to get anyone else's. I don't want to be someone else, I only want to be able to do the thing I've been doing the past lifetime.
I know If I were ever to stop, I would be lost. End of my writing would be the end of me because we are just two halves of one whole: Just as my stories do not exist if I don't write them I don't exist if they are not there within me, guiding me.
And again I wonder: Is the spotlight really worth it?
Cicmila