I am 28 years, 2 months and 5 days old.
By the time I’m 30 I want to have my memoir in the hands of a publisher (maybe not published, but just with the promise that it’s going to happen) and I want to be living in my very own built-with-my-own-hands-drenched-in-my-own-sweat house.
I have one year, 9 months and 25 days to figure out how to pull that off.
Deep breath.
Here’s the thing: I have wanted to write a memoir for the past 6 years. I have said I’m starting it for the past 5 years. I have started a wee tiny bit of writing just ONE time in the past 8 months. Then I freaked out and quit.
I’m not moving so fast.
I’m pretty busy these days. Pretty busy procrastinating and drawing up blue-prints for my tiny house. (I’ve got my eye on a 16-foot flatbed trailer that I’m going to turn into a foundation and at least four walls where a little weird woman with a writing habit can hole away with some strong coffee and her very own staircase.)
And the tiny house is moving along faster than the memoir. I already have some emails out to some Craigslist suppliers of windows and siding and insulation. The tiny house is going to take hard work and dedication and a level. And I’m okay with that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I can charm my way into some help from more sturdy, strong people. I can build a house. It’s only a matter of time and money.
But a memoir? That takes courage. The kind I’m not sure I have. It takes emotional energy. It takes digging into your own soul and then putting it out there for OTHER PEOPLE to read.
I’m not so sure about that.
Maybe I need to reassess my goals. Maybe I have one year, 9 months and 25 days to build a tiny house and write about building it instead of writing about all the people and places that built me. Maybe I have the strength to build but not the courage to write.
Maybe this is the pounding headache and screaming sinuses talking. Maybe it’s the fever dreams.
Maybe I’ll take a moment to scream. Because sometimes screaming helps.
You go girl… I love that you’re strong and sturdy! You can do anything! Just write… a bit here, a bit there. Get someone to look at it and encourage you along… Don’t be afraid of the words on the screen; they’re not just bringing your story to life, but maybe they’ll be putting a lot of stuff to bed for good as well. It’ll be the best thing you’ve ever done.
And wow about the house…you’re such a lateral thinker!
Oh Bev, I’m going to print this out and tape it to my desk. Thank you for the motivational words.
;=}}
I’m “pretty busy procrastinating” these days too. But there’s nothing like a baby on the way to make a girl freak out about all the as yet unattempted dreams… Sending big doses of courage and faith your way. Dreams have a way of morphing and surprising us as we pursue them but we’ll never know how into we start.
I will take all the courage and faith I can get.
It was wonderful chatting with you today. Fiona, you are a treasure. xoxo
You can do this! I wrote my teaching memoir in a summer when I was in charge of the kids. YOU CAN DO THIS! I promise. I promise promise. One sentence at a time. You can absolutely do this things.
Thanks Abby. If you can write in the summer with kids all over you, then maybe I can write while working two jobs and building a house? I hope so. xoxo
You’ve lived a fascinating life, Sarah. I can confirm that even the little bits of your story I have read in blogs posts and over sopapillas is powerful. DO IT, ladylove. 🙂 xoxo