I used to call myself an aspiring writer, but that’s not really what I am. I’m a wannabe writer. The difference? An aspiring writer works towards their dreams and hasn’t made it yet, and a wannabe writer is someone who wants to be a writer and has hardly ever written anything. Most people would rather call themselves aspiring writers because it sounds fancy and people wouldn’t scold them as much, but I don’t care. I’m an honest person. I am what I am.
To me, wannabe writers calling themselves aspiring ones are like drug dealers calling themselves public pharmacists. (I’d probably use that on my resume if I was a drug dealer.) My first job since I graduated university was a general labour job at an egg factory (more on this embarrassing story later). I switched between lifting 25-pound trays of eggs onto a machine and searching for defective eggs. Most people probably tell others they were general labourers or quality assurance managers. I tell others I was an egg factory bitch and a defective egg finder.
I’d argue that wannabe writer is a level below aspiring writer. (I mean, seriously? Who knew there could be a level below aspiring writer?). The saddest part is I’m on that level. The question is: How does one become an aspiring writer?
Reading about Writing
Since I lasted posted 3 months ago, I spent time working jobs I had no future in, falling in love with TV shows, and reading about writing advice. Aside from all the common advice, there are two schools of thought regarding writing.
- Just write. Force yourself to write anything because even bad writing is better than not writing. Eventually, the writing will come along.
- Wait for inspiration to write. You won’t feel pressure to write so you’ll love it. Also, your writing will be inspired and passionate.
Well, thanks for the advice with contradicting views. I guess the take away from this is figure out what works for you. I haven’t figured that out yet, but I did learn something valuable from my own experience and reading about it.
Relax on Research and Reading
Don’t invest too much time into researching and reading about writing. While I was in university, a wise professor once told me, “There are always more resources to read. The goal isn’t to read everything, but to learn how to make use of what you read and to learn how to pick what you should read.”
Through one of my Googling reading sprees, one writer even gave an amount of the most time you should spend: 3 months. (No, that’s not why I’m posting now. The 3 months was just a coincidence.)
All the time I spent reading about writing, I could’ve been doing something else. Knowing me, most of it wouldn’t have been spent writing because I’m a wannabe writer. But even if I spent a little bit of time, I could’ve taken baby steps towards becoming an aspiring one.
There’s no point in reading about writing if that means you never write a single thing. That sentence felt weird to write because I’m a hypocrite.
My (Insert Number)th Return to Writing
I’m actually writing again because it’s NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and that also inspired NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month). I’ve never been the type of person to follow the crowd, but there’s something about a lot of people writing that inspired me to come back. It takes a randomly made-up event for me to return to writing. I know some people out there criticize both the NaMos, but if it makes wannabe writers like me actually write something, it’s not so bad, right? I’ll take any progress I can get.
Baby steps, wannabes. Baby steps.
PLIGC, Society’s Used Condom
P.S. While I was on my most recent (and too frequent) hiatus, two people actually commented on my posts. I know I haven’t replied yet, and it’s awful because usually only popular bloggers are too cool for their commenters, and I’m not even popular, yet I haven’t replied. How much of a douche would I be if I ever became popular?
I will reply. (Better late than never?). And thanks to both of you. You both really made my day when I read them. I’m just not used to people commenting that I get anxiety when someone does. I feel like I can’t reply until I have something else to post. Don’t ask me why. I’m just weird like that. But thank you. It means the world to me.