Thursday, August 4, 2011

Day Four, Supplemental

(Yes, that was a Star Trek reference)

This isn't meant to sound like a pity party, honest. But reading other entries in this challenge, it's becoming clear to me.

I am not a Writer.

I write, and I'm fairly good at it. I'm not horrible, at least. But a Writer I am not. A Dancer, a Designer, a Seamstress, this is where my art comes through. I am, however, determined to finish this challenge, because I'm stubborn like that, but I know it's not me.

I have so many friends who are Writers. I can't really say that my writing was an attempt to fit in, for I began it when I was the only one among my circle. But now I'm the little fish in a big pond, so to speak, and I think I find my true joy elsewhere.

The realization is freeing, in a way. I no longer feel inadequate, just different, and that I've always been, wherever I am.

"This world is not my home."


  1. I've been thinking about Emma Woodhousing: that tendency to try one's hand at many things, and to do none of them very well. I'm told it's a very tempting disease. My family is not a Renaissance family. Each one of us has a particular thing at which we do well and enjoy, and we tend to stick in that sphere. I hope this does not make us sound narrow-minded: those spheres are rather large spheres. But we understand that to try to accumulate lots of different skills (let's say, in the arts) we are unlikely to do well in any of them. It takes a very unique sort of person to be proficient in many things. We are not among those few.

    So no, you needn't feel at all inadequate about not being a Writer. I am not a Seamstress. At odd times I wish I really did have the wherewithal and drive to improve my sewing skills, but I know that if I tried to do that my writing would suffer. I can't put too many irons in the fire or I don't make any blades at all.

    I'm glad you're sticking with the writer's challenge, though. It's fun, even if it is mind-boggling at times.

  2. *Holds up novel* Made by me. 11 years and still only 1/4 done.

    *Holds up corset* Made by me. 2 days flat.


    Thanks for the comment. I love that you /never/ say the conventional thing (in this case, "Oh, what do you mean? You're a lovely writer!" or some such). You take the time to /say/ something. :-)

    Urk. There's the call to make supper...

  3. Heh, you know me. I abhor small-talk and socially polite lies.

  4. ...not to mention that she (Jenny) has a GREAT HORROR of being OVERTRIMMED...

    But really, you spread yourself over many highly creative pursuits with greater skill than most people I know. That you can write well is without a doubt; I appreciate the gracious honesty this post expresses in recognizing that one does not have to be passionate (to the point of pursuing it as a vocation) about everything one expresses a talent or even an affinity for. It shows discernment - without which talent is worth very little.

    For my part, I gave up the idea of either being a nurse or exercising my literary brain. There is no either/or to it; I can't have one without the other. In that respect, I am a bit of an Emma-Woodhouse, and I lament the fact that I cannot give myself to one or the other wholly - but once I abandon one, the other stagnates. I have not given myself to the craft of writing as Jenny and Abigail have; I do not call myself a Writer - but I cannot imagine not writing. I shall probably wind up as one of those family nuisances who goes safely unpublished for forty or fifty years and then suddenly decides to publish her Memoirs, to the great consternation of anybody who ever knew her.