Doubts

 I'll let you in on a secret. I often had doubts about becoming an author.

When blogging was a big thing, several years ago, I wrote four blogs at a time, and then I realized I was wasting my time writing articles when I really wanted to write stories. I recently came across this article I wrote about myself for my blog called Bits, Tales, and Yarns. It reflects what I was feeling at the time. I decided to let you see it, even though it expresses some of my insecurities. I'm not sure of the year but I think it was around 2010. I wrote my first book in 2014.

I Always Wanted To Be a Writer

I've wanted to be a writer since I was in 5th grade, but I also wanted to be a lot of other things then, too. I started taking piano lessons when I was 5 and continued until I was 19. My parents had a plan for me to be a music teacher, and since I was an obedient child, I did what was expected of me. When I was 15, I gave my first piano lesson and continued to do that for 45 more years, with just a little time off for babies. It was a good way to earn a living, and I was happy with it. The challenges were tough but the rewards were huge! I had a great sense of satisfaction watching my students grow up to become pianists -- well some of them anyway. But writing was always calling to me.

In the 5th grade, I actually wrote a book which I passed around to all of my friends to read. My cousin folded and stapled pages into a book form and then I wrote out 10 chapters with a pencil. It was a young girl's idea of a love story about the Rose Bowl game, the handsome quarterback, and the beautiful young woman who was chosen Queen, with the chance to ride in the parade perched royally on the back of a convertible. There was no such thing as color TV then, so the beautiful colors of the Rose Parade with the flowers and seeds on the floats were all in my imagination. I wrote descriptions of floats that I conjured up in my mind and told about the wonderful bands that were seen marching down the street. At that point in my life, I had never been out of the state of Michigan, but I pretended I knew all about California living. It was pre-computer so there was no way to do instant research. I was way too young for a driver's license and my father refused to let me ride my bike downtown; therefore there was no way to get to the library. I'm sure the details were quite inaccurate, but I didn't care and neither did my friends. My book was a big hit, and I was proud of it.

I've always been the kind of person who has many hobbies, and writing was just one of them. Being bored is a concept I know nothing about. There's always something to do; the question is what will I do with my time and how will I make the best use of it. I forged on through the years, writing in diaries (as we called them then) sending long letters home when I was living out of the country, and writing personal notes to my husband and daughters at various times in their lives when bits of encouragement were called for.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've never been disciplined enough to set aside time during the day to practice the craft of writing. I often wake up in the morning and the first thing that comes to mind is an idea for a story or a great first line for a book. I will jot those down on scrap paper only to lose them later; in other words, I do nothing with my great ideas. I don't know why I do that because it is not my true personality. I'm actually a type A; I am a perfectionist in all things -- well let's say I strive for perfection. I like neat, tidy lists for everything I do. So I have now come to believe that the reason I never found time to write is because I'm afraid of failure.

I started this blog dedicated to writing, completely separate from other blogs I write about gardening and cooking. I promised myself that this time would be different. I would open up my heart and pour out my soul. After a few attempts, I see that it is not going anywhere, either. I seem to create stumbling blocks, purposefully blocking my efforts to put on paper what is in my head. Now I'm wondering, do I really want to be a writer or have I been kidding myself for many, many years? If I do, it's time to do something about it or else stop saying "I always wanted to be a writer."

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33Michael Sipe, Linda Stults Seese and 31 others