Esprit de l'escalier

So, if you have MySpace and you keep up on the blogs…here’s where I thought I was going in talking about Barns and Noble.
Kyle and I were there last night to pick up a gift we ordered for his grandpa. Naturally, instead of making it an in and out trip, we lingered. As I was standing among all the great (and some not-so-great) books I was suddenly overwhelmed with a thought. All these books have writers behind them. “Well, duh.” I know it sounds stupid and obvious. But as a writer the thought was more of a revelation because the past few weeks I have been going stir crazy trying to work on my latest assignment for a client.

Initially I kind of blew off my insanity thinking, “It’s alright, I’m a newly wed, still getting settled into a routine, blah blah blah.” But that rational only worked for a few days. Then I started to question myself. “Am I really meant to be a writer, God? Is this where you want me? Am I strong enough?” I started going out more often and doing silly chores to make myself feel accomplished. For some reason I never feel like I’ve done anything until I’ve gone outside or driven somewhere. I can work really hard all day, but unless I’ve actually gone somewhere…I don’t feel like I’ve done anything. Needless to say…I’m now on a first name basis with some of the employees at Target, Starbucks and Bed, Bath and Beyond.

I’ve realized that I have two conflicting parts in my head. One that is dying to write and needs nothing more than a pad, pencil and endless source of chai to be happy. Then I have this other side that craves community and purpose. I know God has a purpose for me and that there is a wonderful balance of these things found in His plan for me. But for the love! Can’t He just tell me the plan? Give me a rough sketch on a napkin or something? I didn’t pray for patience, so I’m not convinced that a test is necessary right now.

Last night at the bookstore I tried to explain to Kyle what I was feeling, being surrounded by all the amazing work around me. “Kyle, all these books have writers. That means that for every book in this place, there was a person who confined themselves to a room and did nothing but write and concentrate and work…not talking to anybody for so long. That’s just amazing.”
Kyle – “Yeah.”
Me – “I tried doing that for the past few weeks and you saw what it did to me.”
Kyle – “Yeah.”
Me – “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Kyle – “Yeah.”
Me – “Most of these people were in seclusion from friends, family, husbands…”
Kyle – “But I’m sure those people loved them enough to understand and support them in their work. They knew they had talent and wanted to see them pursue their dream.”

He makes it sound so easy and he has so much faith in me. I guess that’s one reason I love him so much.

I picked up a book by Jerry B. Jenkins that was his advice on “Writing with Soul,” or something like that. He was explaining to young writers how to be great. I’ll be honest, I’ve never really been a fan of the Left Behind series, but I think that’s mostly because I don’t usually like any Christian or faith-based writing done after the time of C.S. Lewis, George MacDonald or the great theologians that preceded them. I do like some authors, but I’m very picky and skeptical.

Anyways, I picked up this book and skimmed through it and then I picked up some other “Writing for writers” books. It was when I flipped through one by George Orwell that I was inspired. Here’s a guy that started where I have. As an aspiring journalist, getting the bug somewhat early in life and taking off from there. He was a year older than me when he even decided to become a writer.

I realized that I can pursue my crazy dream of writing and touching people. I just have to be inspired and build a supporting group of writers. Well, there’s a lot more to it than that…but that’s where I have to start. I suppose once I do that I can have my own office…with a floor to ceiling library, inside a beautiful victorian house, with soft, plush sitting pillows nestled inside bay windows overlooking magnificent landscapes…

Well, I suppose first I need a muse.