Epiphanies of a Pseudo Author

I'll never be a real author. Every book I've ever read on writing talks about that desire to write every day. Daily writing seems to be as necessary as a cup of coffee in the morning to most real writers. It seems that to them, going through a day without writing would be like going through a day without using the bathroom.

That's not me.

I love writing. I love making up new worlds (more accurately, small towns, rather than entire worlds) full of quirky characters and interesting events that set the characters into motion. But I don't feel the desire to do it every day. I can go months without writing a single sentence, though during that time I will have read as many books as I can, taking note of how this author works her dialog or how another author describes a rainy day in his fictional city. I feel like I'm teaching myself to write, though I'm not putting down a single word on paper.

Just today, I started the notes for my next novel. The idea has been bouncing around in my head for well over a year now, but just today did I have an "A-HA!" moment that started turning the gears in my brain. I had the characters, I had the general idea of a plot, but both were floating around in a misty limbo because I just couldn't find a place to put them. For some reason, while munching on some hummus and pretzels this afternoon, the uniting force to just popped into my head, so I grabbed the notebook I'd bought specifically for this novel, and I started writing ideas down. It felt good.

Why am I bothering to work on this idea if I have no intentions of ever doing anything with it? I don't know. It's fun. It gives me a sense of accomplishment. Besides, I have this need to write another book, taking my time, and making it far more superior to my first (which, btw, I have decided not to even bother editing because I just don't feel it), which greatly lacked quality in the areas of mechanics and plot transitions. But it was a learning experience because it proved to me that I was capable of creating a full-length novel, no matter how bad it was. And the first one had some pretty great character development, if I do say so myself!

I'll never be a "real" author like Mame. That woman is a star that the publishing world's telescope just hasn't managed to focus on yet. I will probably never have the drive like she does to polish off a work and make it readable to the public. I don't think I'll ever find the courage to try to sell myself to agents in hopes someone likes what they see. Being a real writer is work, and it's a calling. I, on the other hand, am like the actor in the local little theater production or the softball player on his company's summer league. I do it for the fun, with no aspirations of making it to Broadway or MLB. I understand my limitations, but I also know that it doesn't hurt to practice, to have fun with my hobby, and to spend time inside my head pretending that I'm the next undiscovered phenomenon. Things like that are what keeps life fun, right?