I love to write, almost as much as I love breathing, but I don’t like to describe myself as a writer, because I think everyone either is a writer or should be. Everyone should compose something, even a little thing only for their family and friends. So why don’t most people bother? What makes those who write, even if they are not published, stand out from the rest, in the fact that they do something? What makes a writer?
Three things make someone choose this creative outlet. They are all important, but the first one is the greatest:
They believe that they can.
They want to.
They make the time.
Most people “don’t want to” or can't find the time because they don’t feel they have something worthwhile to say. They don’t think the world would be interested. But they don’t have to please the world: for every creative product, there is a market. Find your niche, don’t try take on everyone.
What I have noticed is that there are published books that I think are poorly written, but are popular or are bestsellers. I’m sure there’s someone out there who absolutely hates what I put out (or would if I were actually that famous!), and someone else who absolutely loves it.
I see inspiration everywhere. My Papa could write about the time he spends reading the Bible and how that makes him feel, or his perspective on religion or life as a senior of an older, southern generation, or the philosophical aspects of baseball—and he is retired and watches TV all day! He has more interests than he thinks: Baseball, bluegrass, Dolly Parton, his family and what they mean to him. Somebody should tap into the market he belongs in. Why not him?
My cousin could write about the challenges of being married with two children at twenty. My Mom-Mom could write one of those romantic stories she loves. My mother could publish a book on life-coaching or her theories for a happy marriage. My Grandma could post something on websites about recycling or the environment, my Grandpa could send an article to a running magazine. My dad could talk about his favorite knives and guns, his boss about working as a bouncer in a Swedish brothel or meeting Timothy Leary at a love-in.
Or any one of these people could use their imagination and make something up. People love fiction.
But why is it so very hard to convert these people? They have plenty to say, they could find the time if they wanted to, and there is always a market. And now it’s easier than ever to have a blog and self-publish, and it’s free or cheap! (Hell, they even let someone like me do these things! You don’t even have to be competent, and I’m living proof!) So why not?
Because either:
They don’t think they can.
They don’t want to.
They don’t have the time.
But I have found that often the last two reasons are really only excuses for the first.
You make time for what is most important to you, often what you do for others. Many people seem unable to do anything just for themselves, out of guilt or a feeling of unworthiness. I am “selfish” sometimes, because of my favorite creative outlet. But it’s harder to be selfish if you are out of practice.
Of course, I realize that not everyone wants the kind of life I aspire to. I have “written” my own story lines since before I was literate. I would peg the age at about six years old. For many years, I didn’t sleep, I just lay there and thought of the newest exploits of my favorite Disney characters or superherpes (sorry, I meant to say superheroes!). I still do that, only now I’m older and supposed to be more mature. I pretend that I am.
And I’m not judging any of the others as having low self-esteem (well, not everyone). But I want them to be winners with me, when I become one. Why settle for mediocrity?
Find what your interests are, make a list, then narrow it down to your passions. Or, think of a character and build a story around them, maybe based on someone you know who is funny, quirky or annoying. And remember, there is always a market. So find yours.
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