Writing is a brutal way to try to make a living, and I'm a little bit T.O.ed at God for making writing the one thing I'm good at and the only pursuit out of which I could make a viable career.
Consider: To write, one must be alone with no distractions (i.e., other humans around).
To write, one must be a self-starter, disciplined and able to find one's own motivation (i.e., outside of a boss' watching eye).
To write, one must be willing to face a lot of rejection, criticism, and general skepticism from a pragmatic world that scoffs at the idea of making a living with the arts.
Okay, so we've got loneliness, lack of motivational assistance, rejection, criticism, and overall cynicism. Sounds like a trip. At least I have a window to look out of now.
But what would the world be without the written word? The world needs writers ... to make you smile, think, cry, remember, laugh, hurt, heal ... which is why I think I won't discourage my nine-year-old cousin from aspiring to the ranks of authorship. Below is a short story she wrote, which her mother, my aunt, emailed to me. After reading it, tell me if it isn't worth it for some people to abandon the nine-to-five for a pen and paper. Or a laptop, as it were.
***
Once upon a time in the bottom of a pond lived a small turtle named Murtle. Murtle loved to bask in the sun on a rock. In the summer she would swim around in her pond, but in the cold winter weather she would swim to the bottom of the pond and burrow herself in the mud for her long winter sleep. When it was summer again, she would do the same old thing, but she didn't seem to care that she does the same thing every year. Murtle loved to do the same things alot!!
THE END
Written by Brooke Marie Schmitt
***
No comments:
Post a Comment