If I had a written page for every time I’ve thought about writing a book, I’d probably have a dozen or more of them published by now. Of all the things I thought I wanted to be “when I grow up,” I think being a writer is probably the one I’ve failed most miserably. Yep, failed. Miserably. Not because I lack the skill nor the desire. And not because I didn’t try.
I don’t know when I first started thinking about being a writer. Maybe it was in third grade when I discovered The Beatles' “Paperback Writer,” like singing that song over and over again brainwashed me or something. All I know is that by 4th or 5th grade, I was crafting short essays from the ghost stories my friends told me, sometimes changing them or embellishing them to suit my needs. By junior high, I began keeping a diary or journal in case I decided to write my memoir one day. In high school, I started on my first novel, a dreadful piece of work that kept me occupied for several years and that I probably should have burned by now, but I haven’t. The only thing good about that book was that it led me to meet my late husband, Mark, and maybe that’s why I’ve hung onto it. But that’s a story for another day.
Over the years, encouraged by my friends and family, I’ve taken notes, started rough drafts, and fixated on titles for various essays, but I’ve never managed to get the job done. I’ll be all gung-ho about some topic, and after a while, I either get distracted by something else or my inspiration wanes. This blog is probably the longest-running writing effort that I’ve been able to manage in years. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe because the topic is always changing, or the format is short, but I can complete a blog post with ease. Maybe it’s having a deadline.
Whatever the reason for my lack of completion, I’ve decided it will not be the final chapter of my authorship story. Like any project or goal, it’s only over when you give up, and I haven’t given up yet. I have a lot of other projects that have had similar success. I’m not giving up on them either, because the minute you decide that a task can’t be accomplished, that a goal cannot be achieved, or that a battle cannot be won, that is the end. That dream, that goal, that accomplishment will never come to be. So, keep your options open. You never know when inspiration will strike or the answer to the problem will fall into your lap. It’s never too late to make a dream come true and never too late to try again. I know I will.
