Goddess, I Am.

I figured out a long time ago that I want to write for the rest of my life. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing. I earn a very good living out of it, too, so I really can’t complain.

But writing hundreds – if not, thousands – of online content for subjects you really do not care a thing about . . . well, it just gets to you. Every once in a while, I find myself wondering what the hell I’m doing writing about constipation (among others) when I ought to be writing a novel, or a memoir, or something that may very well win a Pulitzer (who knows?), or at least something that would reach out and touch people, bowel problems notwithstanding. Then I go through the whole litany of reasons why I’m settling for what I am doing, and I end up forcing myself to be grateful for the chance to even write at all and get paid for it to boot!

Still, this doesn’t stop me from wishing I was a more ‘serious’ writer. I would love to be respected, to be revered, to have a cult following. I would love to see my name in print, preferably under the words “#1 New York Times Bestseller.” It’s all fanciful thinking, I know. But does it really have to be?

Every day, I’m getting to know myself more. I’m starting to figure out what I want out of life beyond the next 6 months. And I’m starting to make the plans that would make me the person – and by extension, the writer – that I want to be.

First thing’s first – I need formal training in writing. I don’t have one, you know, not even a humble certificate from a writing workshop. I’d like to go back to school and get an MA in Creative Writing. And I’m not talking about an Online College, either. I’ve found that there are universities and colleges in London and the U.S. and Canada that would take on post-graduate students for their writing programs, even without a writing-related undergraduate degree. Of course, one will have to prove one’s aptitude in writing in a 5000-word essay to be considered, and even then, one will have to be prepared to spend thousands of dollars (or even pounds sterling!) to take the course. Unless, of course, one somehow lands a scholarship, which is already the most fanciful of all fanciful thinking.

Well, I don’t think I’ll be landing a scholarship anywhere anytime soon (or even ever), nor do I have thousands of dollars (or pounds) to spare. But I will write that 5000-word essay, anyway, in between constipation [articles]. Just in case.

- Posted using BlogPress on Agrippa, the iPad