Writing Prompt #10

 

After years mostly dormant, I am attempting to work myself into being a writer again. To that end, I did a simple Google search for "writing prompts" and chose the first link listed, which included a total of 20 prompts. My goal is to write from a new prompt each day, giving myself 10 minutes before calling "hands up, utensils down" (so to speak), and then posting the unedited result in this blog. The post below is today's entry.

 

"Write about why you want to write."

 

I want to earn a living. Being laid off from a full-time job sucks.

 

I want to earn a living, but do so using what I think is the greatest gift I’ve been given—the ability to write clearly and precisely. I'm a writer, and I want to write to be who I am.

 

That last point sounds arrogant and vague. I am neither the world’s best nor the world’s worst writer. I’m probably somewhere in the middle, if that matters. But it’s a skill that has served me well in my work, my studies, and my connecting with other people.

 

I also know that writing is hard, especially if I’ve fallen out of the habit of writing regularly.

 

I wrote a bit for my full-time job as an editor, but only sporadically. Mostly, I wrote email messages to authors, printer reps, and colleagues; I often wrote from boilerplates. I never really looked a blank page or screen and just wrote. I went so long without doing so that I didn’t even know I missed it.

 

But then my friend Susan asked me to write an essay for an anthology she was planning to compile and edit. I said yes, and then procrastinated for weeks before really getting started. I finally began writing mostly disjointed sentences and paragraphs here and there, over a couple of weeks.

 

And then, finally, I got tired of feeling the weight of the unfinished task, so I went for it, completing the bulk of the essay in a couple of days. I can’t really help editing as I write, but I did as little of that as I could. After taking a couple days’ break from the essay, I started rereading it, changing phrases, adding and deleting anecdotes, massaging the language. I really focused on the opening and closing sections, tweaking them so that they conveyed the emotions I intended.

 

By the time I sent my draft to my friend, I had taken ownership of it. I wrote this. I gave not only time, but effort, attention, feeling. Heart. I believed in it, and believed that I had done good work, something worth doing.

 

I want to feel that again.

 

When I was laid off, I immediately started applying for editing jobs. One of my oldest friends, who has known me since college, let me know that a writing position might open up with her company. I politely blew her off, thinking I didn't really want to write for a living, and also that I probably wasn't qualified for the job.

 

But she said that her boss was open to looking at my resume. I still didn't strongly consider applying, but she said she'd be happy to chat with me about what is involved in her work. So I called her. She gave me all sorts of details about what she did. But she also said, pointedly, "You're a good writer. I've thought so since grad school. And I know you could do this work." 

 

I didn't get the job. But I got the opportunity to do freelance writing for the company. 

 

My friend reminded me that, yes, I am a writer. 

 

I want to write to be who I am.