Sunday, January 30, 2011

A Promise to Myself

One of the hardest parts
being a writer
is one I'm learning.
There are so many people
who have said so many good things
and arranged their words so well,
that I feel like I need to eat up all of their words and arrangements
to be the best kind of writer I can be.

Problems exist in this plan.
I end up
never feeling
like I will be able to read all that is on my list
of good writing and beautiful arrangement.
But in the midst of trying,
I tend to not actually write.
Ms. Britt told me
a writer is someone who writes.
If I don't actually write,
that makes me not much of a writer then.
It needs to be different, see,
because I have so much to say--
so much that sometimes
the thoughts
tumble over each other
and I can't get them out fast enough.
At night,
it's like my ears
are fighting for the pillow
while I toss and turn,
arranging and rearranging sentences
in my head
that are buried again
by morning.

It will be different.
It must be different.

But I have to make it so.


  1. It is funny to me
    that as you write about
    perhaps not being
    a writer,
    your words are very

  2. Your words about not writing enough are beautiful. As I started my own blog, I found that I am so overwhelmed with things to say that I end up not writing because I want my writing to be focused and not all over the place -- but want to write about so much that I can't focus -- and end up not writing at all.

    I hear what you're saying. Loud and clear. I love what you write and I'm always read to hear more from you!

    Much love.