Ever since mentioning my fan fiction in my Sisterhood post, I’ve been scouring the internet, old disks, and my laptops for as much of my stuff as possible.
Because I need to be filled with the all-encompassing passion for writing that I had back when I was younger. I wrote and wrote and wrote until I couldn’t anymore. So what if some of my chapters were only 500 words. So what if some of my stories were only 20K long? So what if some of the ideas were so ridiculous and the language was so juvenile that only a teeny boppin’ love struck teenager could have written them? None of that matters folks! What matters is that I had a passion for writing then that completely shadows my passion now.
Don’t get me wrong. I love to write. I get this deep-rooted sense of satisfaction when the words come out just right and the ideas that linger in my mind are transposed into words. But when I was younger I needed to write and wrote almost every day. I would write all the time and it almost felt as if I lived to write.
Yes, I wrote fan fiction so the characters were not my own. They were real people who I had never met but dreamed of meeting. But these people made words inside me venture to the surface and breathed a new life into me. Sometimes my stories were the typical boy-meets-girl, fall in love (within a few days of course), insert heartbreak and reconciliations, insert randomness like psycho killers or shark bites and you had the basic rundown of my first stuff. I was a beginner and used the word “said” all the time. It’s actually frustrating to read because I conveyed no emotions. It was all “said”, “yelled”, “cried” and all the jazz that really doesn’t do much.
But as you read my work from over the years (I was an avid FF writer from 1996 until about early 2000) I morphed from a basic cheesy writer to someone who had a lot of good ideas and better sense of words. I pushed the envelope a bit more and one of my favorite pieces I recently found almost made me blush when I re-read it. I didn’t remember having that in me back then.
When I wrote when I was younger I wore my heart on my sleeve and you could see that in my writing. I wasn’t as shy and as nervous about what people thought. I posted chapter after chapter for people to read, never once needing recognition or encouragement.
I want to feel that way again. I want to pound out the words and not give a crap about what others are going to think of it because just writing is what means something. I think now I get too caught up in the “I have to write something good so I get published” idea of things. It’s almost as if writing has become more of a job (though way down the line that would be pretty nice) right now than a passion. It’s a challenge getting my mind to kick-start itself again. Still trying to revel in the moment and not look so far into the future.
I’m trying guys. I’m trying.
And in most recent news Canada just won their second set of bronze medals in the women’s 10m synchronized diving.
SO PROUD OF THEM!!