Finding inspiration

Last weekend, I was gifted the most amazing, thoughtful and tear-jerking gift I had ever been given in my brief two decades of life. That may not seem like much, but the note that came with it may help to illustrate just how much it meant to me. The note said:

“Every craftsman has his tools. And this is the tool of a writer. Now please- take this tool and use it for your craft. I truly hope that you find the artistic inspiration by using this tool.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself. [Some quick backstory] When I was a kid, I had to sneak chunks of lined paper from my mother’s stash to write all of my stories on. Naturally, with editing and lots of rethinking along the way, they got pretty messy. Especially since I was never one to write in pencil. The problem was, when it came time to type out my stories, I had to ask for permission to use the computer (can any of us even remember a time when we needed permission?!), and even when I could, I had to share with my brothers and got booted off sooner or later. So, every weekend when we were at my grandmother’s house, I ogled the unattainable box of my mother’s old electronic type writer. I dreamed of owning that thing, and never needing to ask permission or even bother printing out my digital stories.Long story short, I never did get my hands on that thing.

So I cried when I opened the suitcase-esque box containing my gift and I saw this.*

Maybe it’s a little bit impractical. My mother’s initial reaction was, “You’re actually gonna type on that thing?” Maybe my next best-selling (as if there was a first?) story won’t be typed on it…
but it might be created on it.

This gift not only echoed inside of me, and reminded me of that box beneath a bunch of other boxes that I could never reach as a child, but it did what the gifter meant it to do. It inspired me. Maybe it was a placebo effect from the note, but since I’ve had this thing, I may have only used it once or twice,but I’ve written so much more than I have over the past few months in these mere two weeks.


And all over again, I’m beginning to find the words.

BONUS GIF: Just cos this post was particularly gif-less and it’s giving me anxiety.

Haaaaa. Much better.

* along with a book, a collection of poems by Tyler Knott Gregson called Chasers of the Light. 10/10, would recommend over and over again. I’m in love with it!


Father, I have sinned. It has been 6 months since my last post…

Honestly, I thought it had been longer. But I guess since my posts became more and more spastic as time went on, it feels like I’ve been absent much longer than I have. But yes, I forgot about my blog.

I mean, first of all I became busier than I expected to be. I started this originally (see Post Numero Uno…actually I think that’s I called it, too! I’m so predictable…) because I had TOO MUCH free time that I spent sitting on my back side being less than productive and having all of my energy sucked out of me. Be careful what you wish for,I guess, cos it changed very much very quickly.

I also was having trouble being inspired to write. A blog is something that doesn’t require one topic to base your writing on, in fact it can change topics day to day. And that became a problemo. Unless I was absolutely struck by something, I had nothing in particular to write about. Although, truth be told, I stopped blogging around the same time that I found something else to write…fanfiction.

I KNOW, I KNOW. 85% of the time I can’t stand reading that trash either. The grammar sincerely makes me want to go out and snap necks. But if there are any sociopaths here who may be interested:
Here’s a hint as to what it may or may not be about…it has a rating of 5/5 shells.

Now this is getting a little long, so I’ll try and be quick about things. In terms of my baby, my love that I birthed all those years ago who is in dire need of editing, it’s been a struggle. I started rewriting it for the THIRD time, but it just doesn’t feel the same. And I worry that it WON’T ever feel like the same book I wrote in the first place. If the remake isn’t as dear to my heart as the original, I can’t proudly produce it in favour of the other one, as desperate in condition as it may be.

Lately, I started forcing myself to write often. I used to scribble down ideas I got on the subway or just throughout the day in a note on my phone but I realized that I won’t get anywhere if I keep setting my ideas aide and letting them sit there, maybe for another five years. That’s not how dreams come true. Cinderella got up and got her own darn ass to the ball, and that’s very much what I’ve decided needs to be done.

So this time, I’m not doing this because I have nothing else to do and need a hobby. I’m not even doing it to fulfill a need to write. I’m doing this to teach myself dedication, perseverance, and get off my lazy behind and take myself to the ball.