My brother was an awesome drawer. He was self-taught, and he was amazing. Back then I thought he would grow up to be a cartoonist and I would be a famous writer. Now as an adult, I find myself stuck in a career, which is lucrative, but boring. I hate the repetition and I long for the day that I can write myself out of my failed career choice.
I want to write! I wrote a lot when I was a teen and in college, but I was never absolutely confident of my writing skills. I am constantly, reading books and I find when the story is over, I feel like my best friend has left me sitting all alone at dinner. I feel a hole in my soul that doesn’t go away until I find another book that I can escape into. After a good read, I find myself wondering why I could not write a story of my own. I am actually jealous of the writer of the story I just read. Am I crazy?
You may be asking, “What is stopping you from writing?” I guess, I have finally gotten to the point where I am trying to answer that question for myself. Hopefully I will continue writing here and get back to my childish dream of becoming a famous writer.