Last night Robb and I were lying on the bed just chatting and harassing the cat, and he asked me a question.
"What's one of your dreams?"
It took me a minute to dig one out of the back of my mind. I've been doing so much day-to-day living and just spending time keeping busy that I haven't really thought about it in a while. My dreams.
I told him that someday I'd like to own a used bookstore.
He wants to run a ski hill.
I want a wall of built-in bookshelves. A place to keep ALL of my books, instead of having them tucked into corners and spread across two counties.
He wants a house and a yard where we don't have to worry about obnoxious new neighbors moving in.
I want to be published.
...
There. I said it. Now it's out there. Do you know how scary that is for me? To admit that? It's way scary. I mean...maybe you all already assumed that I wanted to be published. You'd have to be stupid (or new around here) to not know that. Who writes five novels, three screenplays, a handful of short stories, and a shitload poetry but doesn't want to be published? Durr. But I never say that. It's scary. Terrifying.
Hello. My name is Justin, and I want to be a published writer.
That's my dream. What's yours?
Out
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A week in my life
7 hours ago
2 comments:
Mmm, yes, the power of will and intention is terrifying. It's both the idea that you're capable of anything you set your mind to, but that you also run the risk of failure.
Ha, want to be publishing buddies?
Yes.
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