Okay, so I made the commitment to write a post a day on my blog and made it all the way to day 15 before disaster struck. What happened to this aspiring writer so thrilled with the challenge?
I found myself spending the weekend at a huge author/book club event, in a room surrounded by over 70 intensely talented individuals who have passionately lived the lives they write about and have been through hell and back to get published. I looked inward and saw… a fraud.
Who am I to think I have anything to say and would actually know how to say it? What have I done that merits my time to write it and the time of readers who may happen upon it?
What am I doing here?
Backing up… I have to admit that I absolutely love to read. And anyone who really loves to read knows that deep down in the places we do not share… we would love to write as well. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to read a well-written story… except perhaps the secret desire to have written it.
Recently, I have fallen head over heals in love with a white-haired, bon vivant Irishman by the name of Pat Conroy. Sure, I have read his incredible work in the past but it was not “true love” until I met him and listened to him present the past two years at the book club event know as Girlfriend Weekend.
He is a funny, funny man. He also has a very dark side that you discover when reading his novels. When asked how can he be this totally charming individual on stage while at the same time write about the deeply disturbing subjects of his books, he said, “I have found family a very difficult thing to live through, and my books reflect that.” Even off the cuff, he was profound.
Above all, this man can write. He turns the simplest phrases into magic where every sight, sound and smell leaps off the pages for his readers. Every sentence he writes is fluid, colorful and amazing. Last night, I literally devoured his beautiful cookbook in one sitting… pardon the pun. Ask yourself, when was the last time a cookbook made you cry and hungry at the same time?
Why on earth would I even attempt to continue to speak much less write after that? What could I possibly offer after coming in contact with such talent? Do I get back in the blogger’s saddle and ride again or do I wallow in my own self-inflicted feelings of ineptitude?
I guess in writing today… I have made my decision.