Have I ever mentioned that I suck?
Like, lemon juice on a papercut suck.
Or finally getting to kiss that hot girl in high school but not realizing that she puked 5 minutes ago suck.
Yeah. So. I want to be a writer. Anyone that has known me for any length of time knows that.
In the past month, I have written, rewritten, and scrapped so many story ideas.
Now that it is December I don't have the mental capacity to focus on writing so I am storing up more ideas for the new year. (And wiping them out almost as fast as I come up with new ones.)
It used to come so easy. When I was an angst filled teen, with no real responsibility other than worrying about where my next meal would come from, I could write and write and write.
Now, not so much. I have tried writing comedy based on my life experiences but they always come out bitter and a bit nasty. (Which is wierd because I don't feel bitter or nasty.)
Anyways, I am not writing this for your sympathy or well-wishing. I am just getting it out of my brain so that some awesome ideas can have room to wiggle.
I have found that my creative mind is like any muscle on my body - the more I work it, the more I can work it. Just keep at it. I had a lot more "material" when I was full of angst too. Dry, bitter humor is one of my favorite kind. I bet you could make your life stories really funny. Even though you don't want my well-wishing, you're getting it!
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