On Writing

I've always loved to write but it wasn't a serious pursuit until this year. I've been talking about writing a romance novel for years but that was a vague, one-day-in-the-distant-future kind of plan. Having crashed and burned on the grad school front, I've been plodding along these past two years, trying to figure out what to do next. When I started getting my shit together in January I realized that of all my interests, writing was the big one, and if it was something I wanted to be serious about, I needed to get serious and start, you know, WRITING.

Wonder Woman gave me the kick in the ass I needed. Pissed off that women keep getting the shaft when it comes to superhero movies (Aeon Flux? Really? That's the best they could do?) and distraught that Buffy & Firefly creator Joss Whedon was off the proposed Wonder Woman film project, I decided to take matters into my own hands. While the likelihood of my screenplay seeing the light of day is miniscule, if a Filipino kid with a YouTube account can become the lead singer of Journey, anything's possible. Besides, the point of writing isn't to get produced or published or rich & famous, it's to do what I love. So I started doing research, most of which consisted of buying comic books, and my first major writing project was begun.

It wasn't the first; I can't tell you how many screenplays and stories I've gotten five or ten or twenty pages into, only to abandon the next day when the adrenalin rush was over, or when it became difficult to get my thoughts and feelings across the way I wanted to. That's pretty much par for the course for me: get amped up about something, jump right in with all the passion in my heart, and work my ass off - until things get too hard or too boring, and the downward spiral begins. This leads to failure, then depression. It's happened with jobs, with creative projects, and most spectacularly with graduate school, and every time, there was that voice in my head whispering, "You knew this would happen, you never finish anything you start, what made you think this was going to be any different?"

Well this time it WAS going to be different. I was in therapy now, I was taking charge of my life, I was going to follow through and finish the things I start, and I was going to be a writer. Except I felt like I was play-acting. I walked into the office of a neighborhood magazine and asked the owner about their hiring practices. She asked if I was a writer and took me completely by surprise. I almost laughed out loud and stuttered incoherently for a moment before replying, "...yes?..." - not the best way to instill confidence in a potential employer.

So far, though, things ARE different because six months later, I'm still writing! It really is the only profession I'm suited for because I can go in twelve directions at once, writing about different subjects, in different styles, for different purposes, at any hour of the day, and I'm still technically doing the same job. Plus, because I actually AM getting my shit together, I'm finishing the projects I start! I'm not doing anything that draws an income yet, but that's OK; I've spent twenty years procrastinating, I need practice developing discipline. Once my footing is a little more steady, watch out - Wonder Woman, I'm coming for you baby!!!