Part of the becoming a writer is the desire to have everything mean something – Louise Erdrich.
I’ve struggled as a writer and a human being with justifying myself to myself and sometimes the rest of the world, especially when it comes to job applications and writing. With the job apps, I alwyas start off with high hopes and by the end be puling my hair out because I wondered after about the first or second job on my list, if anyone would bother to read the application or if it was round file fodder. Most of the companies listed on my resume are either temporary agencies, retail, or out of business. And then there is gaps too. Not exactly the most perfect thing. The only real good thing on my resume is what I’ve been doing for the last five years, working for myself. Yet, even that has a drawback because I have no boss, some of my clients are through other clients so I can’t claim credit for the work I did, and other clients have moved on to other designs, so what I did for them is no longer relevant.
Relevancy is a big word in my life. Bigger than discipline. I know I said my last post that maybe I didn’t have enough discipline for the art of writing. I misspoke. I have discipline, but that discipline is based on importance. In June, I said “while my writing may not be important to the rest of the world, it should be good enough that it is important to me.” That statement probably sums up the battle I have every day between my emotional / creative and practical / logical sides when it comes to my writing.
Emotionally, there is no doubt that my writing is important. It has helped me through some very emotional times as well as given me an outlet to express myself during those times when nothing else would have worked. I also enjoy breathing life into characters and situations.I find it fun to put my characters in situations where they might be dealing with some of the same issues that I’m struggling with in real life. It allows me to see things from an outside the box perspective.
It is the practical side where I run into the brick wall. When I walk into a bookstore or even look at my own book collection, I wonder if my stories have any place in the world other than gathering dust in my head or my computer. Some of the things I’ve done have already been written, maybe not in the same way, but the idea still out there. Then their stuff I’ve written which is actually come true and and while the story hasn’t ended in real life, the one I’ve given it in my fiction seems a little campy. Also I’m caught up in the time for money thing. I already waste enough of both by playing computer games.
For now, I’ve decided to concentrate on the practical side just a little bit longer. I’ve started to build up my cash reserves with this latest job, so money may soon not be as big an issue. Time, however, is still one. I have a couple of deadlines that I need to meet. After that, I know, despite all the doubts I have, I need to get back to my writing. I don’t like leaving things undone or unfinished and that, above all, is the biggest issue I have with my writing and its relevance.