Remember when I said I was doing this?
Well, I’ve finally done it.
Six years ago, I started on a journey to earn my certificate
in Publishing, and ten crazy, mind-bending, incredibly educational classes
later, I’m FINISHED!!
Just don’t ask me exactly what I learned. It was a harrowing
experience, to say the least.
Not only was I dealing with being one of the oldest in my
classes – sometimes even being older than the teachers – but in the six years
it took me to do this, I lost my father, my grandfather, my surrogate
grandparents, had my grandmother in the hospital several times, took care of my
mom as she tried to put herself back together after my dad’s death, lost two
friends to suicide, and three to cancer. My best friend was diagnosed with
Parkinsons, and my father-in-law with dementia. And in all of that, fighting my
internal battles with (self-diagnosed) depression, weight issues, lack of
confidence and increasing self-doubt, questioning after every assignment if I
was even smart enough to deserve to be there, and wondering whether or not my
marriage was going to fall apart.
It’s a lot for anyone to have on their plate.
The fact I managed to graduate at all is a miracle. But I
did it. Now, the question I face is the same one that graduates all over the
world face once that piece of paper is in their hands – what do I do now?
My original thought was to open my own boutique e-pub house,
which is why I began this in the first place; to become a writer/editor
extraordinaire like my idols Alison Tyler, Sommer Marsden and Dayle Dermatis.
But then, after a few courses, I realised something - I hate editing.
I have no patience for proper sentence structure, or the Chicago Rules of Style. I don’t care if a
participle is dangling, and I could care less if I end a sentence on a
preposition. The way I write is the way the language sounds to me. It’s musical
and flows, and sometimes choppy and crude to fit the situation my characters
are in. If I had to tear someone’s writing apart and ruin their vision because
they forgot an adverb? I just couldn’t. So, no editing for me.
I found myself loving the marketing and PR classes the most.
Maybe that’s where I fit in. But right now I just need to get my foot in the
door.
I figure if I could start as a receptionist and work my way up, maybe that would help. And maybe, just maybe, I can finally find time to write. I'm sure you can tell from this blog - how sparse it is - that I haven't been following my bliss very well.
Truth is, writers block has me in a tight grip - has for a long time now. The voices have stopped talking to me, and it seems like any form of inspiration deserted me a long time ago. I'm a dry well. I've never been so lacking for ideas in my life. And, though I've lamented it on this blog several times, the last six months have found me with no desire to write.
And that scares me more than not knowing what to do with my certificate.
Even this post lacks the creativity and the wit (self proclaimed wit anyway) that I'm used to in my posts. Completely lacks organisation as well. Scattered pictures and derailed trains of thought litter my posts regularly, but this one seems a little more ... empty than usual.
Maybe because I'm writing for the sake of putting something out there. Or maybe because I suspect I've been a talent-less hack all these years and the truth is just catching up to me now.
Wow, so we started with good news and are ending on a depressing note.
And THAT my friends, is the story of my life.
Posts
