(not my actual school)
Plan Ahead When Setting Goals, Aryk
While I wish that writing was my full-time job, sadly, that day is far away. When I decided that I’d write a book this year, I had forgotten that I agreed to go back to school as part of my professional development. So here I am, taking 9 credits of college courses, with a very busy corporate job, and a rambunctious puppy.
All of that said, I’m going to continue working on my book this year. I’m going to continue blogging. There will just be a mix of topics now. Don’t worry, it’ll will still be about writing.
Let’s Get Started, Shall We?
I’m taking an English Composition class this term. While it has definitely shifted my focus from my novel, I’m sure it will help me become a better writer. So, I thought I would share my class writings here as blog posts. Especially because I am tackling them as thoroughly, and thoughtfully as I would my own writing ideas.
This first project post is an exploration of my ideal situation for writing, and some about what I would write. It’s meant to be in the style of a narrative essay, but nice and short. The comments section is open; any feedback is very welcome.
Wish To Be WRiting
I know the storm is coming by the discontent along the shore. The bay window struggles to hold back distant rumbles. Droplets of cool sea air renew my spirits, give me clarity of purpose. From the comfort of my desk, I watch blades of light split turbulent clouds; they draw my eyes to distant silhouettes. Storm-battered trees anchored into slowly crumbling islets. Backlit waves burst into gossamer sprays. An intricate shadow play reminding me of home.
Growing up on the Oregon coast was a privilege. After school, the beach was a short bike ride away. I would spend hours in the surf, out among the rocks. No matter how far away from the ocean I am, I feel it calling to me. The smell of salt and kelp. Seagulls seem motionless in the sky as they navigate updrafts. My legs remember the sting of cold brine during those first brave steps. It always takes a few minutes for your body to surrender to the cold. It doesn't feel right to be inside. Everything inside me wants to be outside. However, despite the temptation, this trip has another purpose. I promised myself that this would be the year that I finally tackle an idea from my notebook. For over ten years, I’ve scribbled down story ideas without attempting to write a single one. So here I am again, taking those first brave steps.
With so many potential options, potential genres, how do I choose? How do I know which will make a good story? Maybe choosing the right idea isn’t as important as having good storytelling skills? The abundance of options feels more paralyzing to me than the blank page. I once heard a published author say, "You know you have a good idea if you keep thinking about it." Well, that seems like good advice as any. Several years ago, in a fit of pique about "kids today," I imagined a world where people have long-forgotten the importance of art and creativity. A world where technology, logic, and productivity are all that is valued. A world that is about to get a reminder of what was lost. So, there it is. I know what I'm going to write, I have my hot chocolate, I'm in my perfect setting. It's time to write.