bird by bird.

I want to be a writer, plain and simple. So, what's holding me back, you say?  Myself.  If anyone reading this has any daunting tasks that they have been perpetually procrastinating, start writing a book-- I swear you will complete those pesky little chores.

The first, notable, time I recognized my "hesitation" towards the writing process was in 2010.  Yes, I've known I wanted to write years prior to that, however, it wasn't until 2010 that I realized I could.  The first obstacle: the perfect writing desk.  Admittedly, I'm quite picky when it comes to furniture I surround myself with; the pieces have to speak to me, have a feeling.  Shocking, the social worker in training, makes everything about feelings.  I even associate letters with feelings.  I always  confuse the words "sweet" and "sweat", because the double "ee", to me, indicates a salty feeling.  So naturally, I believe the word "sweet" and "sweat" should reverse in meaning.  Get my point, I'm fucking difficult.  So purchasing the desk was the death of me.

When I finally purchased the perfect desk, I wanted the perfect location.  This wasn't too difficult, and not very time consuming.  Next, was the art to inspire me.  This took months.  I finally got to the point that I turned on sad music, as I often do when I paint, got drunk and created the perfect canvas.  Done.  Finally, I needed to sit down and WRITE.  There was only one problem: EVERYTHING.  Any and all distractions got to me.  I worked out more.  I cooked more.  I went to the dentist more.  How frustrating this life was.

You may be pondering that it is currently 2012 and I am discussing irritations from over 2 years ago, why?  Well, the answer is also simple: I've still been procrastinating.  Sure, I've had my bouts of inspiration and productivity, but overall, I've neglected that part of myself.  This is my final straw.  One of my good friends once told me that the great thing about myself is that when I say I'm going to do something I always follow through.  It was a wonderful compliment, but I believe he is full of shit.  Yes, I do always get what I want, because I work at it until I obtain it.  But I mainly feel like one lazy bastard.  Maybe everyone feels this way, I don't know?  What I do know, is that I'm tired of it.

I have ideas, hell I even have an outline for a book, but I'm only a whopping 20 pages in.  What defeat... Or is it?  One of my closest friends recently listened to my frustrations and aspirations, and magically produced this wonderful gem: Bird by bird, by Anne Lamott.  To say I'm in love is an understatement.  Her encouraging, yet realist, writing style is as comforting and freshly clean sheets.  Today.  THIS VERY DAY, I will start churning out material every day.  Things I've learned so far:

1) Write every day.
2) "Good writing is about telling the truth." - Anne Lamott.  And, boy, do I have a lot of truths to express.
3) This is something I've already known, but chapter one quickly reenforced it for me: I write because I want to, and I think I'm good at it.  Actually, those thoughts are the same as the poet John Asbery and Flannery O'connor, respectively.  My work may not be well written, at times, but they are my stories.  I think everyone has a story to tell, I just hope I will find the focus to get mine on paper. 
4) Finally, and most important: see rule number 1.

If you are bored with this progression, then I would suggest not continue to follow me.  If things go right, which I hope they do, I will be posting god-awful stories, with topics ranging from my childhood to my favorite Real Housewife.  Be warned. 

Oh, I almost forgot: bird by bird.  Anne Lamott describes how, once upon a time, her father, also an author, advised her younger brother to tackle a book report on birds... Bird by bird... So, I guess my future endeavors will be one bird, then the next.  Bluejay's have always been my favorite.. Guess that's what I'll start with, the bluejay. 

Regards,
G.