The Persistence of the Novice Writer
Truths gathered while sending messages into space
Name it and claim it.
I didn’t call myself a writer until earlier this year. I approach this space of accomplished authors with trepidation, as I feel unprepared to be among them.
Just starting out is intimidating. The initial gumption to set my words on a public page often gives way to fear and insecurity, as I fear no one will appreciate what I’ve, at times, put my whole heart into. Eagerly reading how the experts have made their marks, thus far, there have been mere pennies for my thoughts.
Writing feels like a search for connection, both between people and in myself. My most pensive moments are at night, when all is still and quiet. Usually fueled by jazz, any idea is welcomed in. The writing is best when it’s feverish, when I put placeholders for unresolved details and quickly lay down line after line. The refinement comes later. I am proud of most things, no matter how tiny the morsel. I wonder what potential each has to cross borders and oceans to reach someone. Who will this touch?
Wondering who is out there reminds me of all the characters in books and television shows who send messages out to space, hoping for a reply. Our collective obsession with the unknown is centuries old. Our journeys to space have, in the last 60…
