Daily Life

I Could Never be a Writer..

Writers have to believe in their own work; this includes writers of books, plays, movies, songs, etc. Often I read a portion of a poorly written book and wonder about who the author is as a person. How did they get to the point of creating this book, and what are their dreams and aspirations?

What inspires someone to write a book without having it proofread first?

What inspires a lyricist to create a sappy love song for someone else to sing and take credit for?

How do authors spend enormous amounts of time and effort on books and then sit back and watch the books be offered for little to no money? I’m sure I wouldn’t any work of mine to be sold so cheaply!

Along the lines of the first statement I made, writers have to believe in their own work. How does one become satisfied with writing cheap and tawdry harlequin romances, or the teenage equivalent, which has become so prevalent and popular among the youth of today? I have to assume at some point, these authors read a book that inspired them to write – they must have seen the way someone else crafted words and been amazed and awestruck; what was the path that transformed them from these starstruck “wannabe” authors to those who will write anything as long as it sells?

I could never be a writer.

Too often I read books and laugh because I would be so embarrassed for my work to be continually republished and reread if it was written so poorly.

I could never be a writer.

I’ve never grasped the idealism, terminology, and use of cliche that seems to be the desired and accepted norm of today’s literature (if you even call it literature).

I could never be a writer.




Mawwiage is what bwings me hewe today.

wuv, twue wuv…

Anyway, I’m packing for the big move to Clint’s apartment, and i’ve decided to start with my books. Ha! Did I mention i’ve already moved a 3 foot bookcase full of them plus a couple of those plastic moving bins?  Anyway, now my bed is covered in plastic shopping bags full of books.  Did I mention I still haven’t made a dent in the mess which is my room?

Right.  So some of my books have also migrated to my mother’s bookshelves (because when I started double stacking them in my cases she took pity), so I now have to go bag them.  I’m definitely taking a picture when I have all of them together… I haven’t counted, but i’m sure I have upwards of a few hundred books, so this could be interesting.  Especially since Clint lives on the third floor.

I will get such a good wedding workout moving all these books!

(and yes, Clint will help me, but I’m not making him do it ALL!)