I’m having an epiphany, my friends. This may or may not be the product of caffeine-laden headache medicine and/or the euphoria of being rid of a headache that has been plaguing me since yesterday morning. Anyway. Here’s the thing. Thanks to Aja for this comment. I have no idea if it is what the dreams are really about, but I can tell you for a fact that it is true, so it is worth dealing with in any case. Here’s what she said:
As for your dream, I think it makes perfect sense, really. You’re screaming and desperate to find an outlet for expression so that your voice will be heard, but you’re also maybe terrified that that voice, once used, once you’ve gotten people’s attention, won’t be good enough or won’t be accepted or respected or maybe will have just been a complete waste of everyone’s time. maybe you’re afraid of what the reactions of everyone else might be if you truly expressed what you really wanted to.
This is completely and utterly true. And… I’ve hinted at things, maybe even outright said them only to qualify them with a “yeah, right” or something similar, but what the hell? I’ve been brave about this kind of thing my whole life- launching myself into impossible dreams to find every single time that they are actually quite possible, even if I have to go a roundabout way to get to them. I have never been scared to do things that people say can’t be done, so why am I so scared now? I have spent my entire life doing exactly what I wanted and never settling for less, and yet here I am, petrified to even talk about it for fear of what? That people will laugh? That they will say it can’t be done? That they will talk behind my back about how I don’t have the talent for it, that I don’t know what I’m getting into, that I’m naive and unrealistic and blah blah blah you think you’re so special blah blah blah mock mock pity pity laugh laugh laugh? What the hell?
I had a long and successful career in musical theater, all the while being told I was too fat, too unmarketable, not enough of a “type”, and I did it all by myself, without an agent. When I left the business, I sat home for a year and wrote and recorded my own album, ignoring the raised eyebrows of all my rock n’ roll guitar-guy friends who told me every five minutes that I wasn’t “doing it right”. I turned down theater auditions when Johnson & Liff and Jay Binder’s office would call, telling them I was unavailable (“When will you be available?” “Um… never.”) despite being told I was crazy by both friends and family. When everybody said I’d have to get a job filing in a stuffy office somewhere to make ends meet, I found my way into Macintosh computer repair with no experience and and no formal training, where I got to work with a whole shop full of funny, creative, fantastic people and a boss who worked in his stocking feet, never having to pull on a pair of pantyhose or stuff myself into a business suit. So what is wrong with me now? When did I start being intimidated by my own dreams? When did I ever spend two seconds listening to nay-sayers?
So, fuck it. I want to do it, I’m going to do it. That’s what I’ve always done, and it has always worked. I’ve never done anything the “right” way, and maybe it has been a more difficult path because of that, but I’ve always been happy. Genuinely happy. I want to be happy again. So. I’m going to write. I want to write. I’m going to write. I’m going to write and submit things wherever I can and try to do what I’m not supposed to be able to do with a vocal performance degree and a fanfic habit. I’m going to ignore the two hundred and eighty-five pairs of rolling eyes I just caused in various fandoms by saying that, and just fucking do it. Yes, my writing needs a lot of work. Yes, I am completely unfamiliar with the publishing business. Yes, I’ve only been doing this for a little over a year. Yes, I have no idea what I’m doing, but when have I ever? I’ve always just made things up as I go, and I’ve never been sorry.
My plan: I have never been good at doing more than one thing at a time. When I do something, I need to focus on it for many uninterrupted hours. I’ve never been much of a success at doing something like this while also working at another job, but I have no choice this time around. So. I’m going to set aside several nights a week to shut myself up in our guest room with my laptop and no internet and just write. Even if it is coming out crap, I’m going to force myself to write during these hours. If I find I need/want more hours, I’ll expand to more nights. Hopefully my husband will not leave me. I will continue to write fanfiction in between, as I can do that with more distractions- at work, at Capo’s, while watching baseball- but my husband said this morning that he thinks I use fanfiction as a crutch, and he’s right. So that’s my plan. When I have something I think is worth doing anything with, I will attempt the next step.
*whew* Sorry about that, my friends. I just had to get that out there so that I would be forced to stop being a wimp. I know many of you are probably thinking about how foolish I am right now, and you may be right, but I’m not going to be entertaining those types of doubt for the moment. Even some of my closest friends may be thinking this right now, but I just can’t let it get to me. I may try and fail, but if I don’t try, I have already failed. That’s on a sampler somewhere, right?