Someday

“Someday.” That’s what he told me.

An acquaintance of mine threw that “someday” out during our conversation earlier this week. He’d asked me what I’d done over the weekend, and I told him my brother and I spent the prior evening shooting for an episode of a non-existent reality show.

He thought that was so cool (apparently, he’s never seen my acting skills :P), and mentioned that he’d lost his creativity. He felt like he couldn’t think for himself anymore. For example, when he gets on YouTube, he doesn’t even know what to type in without suggestions.

He went on to say how I could probably make good money from writing a screenplay, and that he’s always wanted to write one. He said he’d like to do it someday, but that he wasn’t creative enough.

The Friday before (one week ago today, at the time of this writing), a fellow author posted a question on our online group asking for help. He said that every time he sat down to write the amazing characters in his head, they came out horrible on paper. What could he do? He’d already given up on several projects before. That happened to be the same day that Writing Garbage released.

The following Wednesday, I was at the dentist, chatting with the hygienist. She told me that she has cool story ideas spinning in her head, but when she sits down to write them, they always come out horrible. So now she just leaves the stories in her mind.

Three people, over the period of five days, all basically said the same thing to me: they were afraid to write badly.

Today, I got my wisdom teeth pulled. Before I went under, as the oral surgeon and his assistant prepped everything, the surgeon asked me about my plans for the summer. I told him I’m going to attend a writers’ workshop in June. He then asked if I wanted to be a writer, and of course (though I already consider myself a writer) I said yes.

He wrapped the rubber tourniquet around my upper arm for the IV. “You know, writing is a talent, but it’s also learned,” he said.

I grinned. “I’ve written some pretty awful stuff.”

“Well,” he tapped the crook of my elbow, “I’m sure even the [great] authors wrote badly to start; even Hemingway.”

I nodded. “Oh yeah.”

Then he said, “Writing takes guts. I admire writers for that. So many people say, you’ll never get published and you don’t make money at writing.”

He’s right. Writing is a battle of fear, it’s a battle of being afraid to see yourself write badly, and it’s a battle of overcoming the views of people who don’t think we can do it.

I haven’t mastered the fear. I don’t expect to kick you in the side and say, “Get over it.” But it makes me sad to hear people say the reason they give up on writing is because they didn’t want to see it look bad in the first place. They let fear steal their story. They leave it tucked inside the package. They wait to write until “someday.”

You have a choice. You can wait for “someday,” a day that almost certainly will never come, or you can make “someday” today.

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Writing is not just a talent. It’s a practice. It’s something that you learn.

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