Writers Anonymous Meeting
Hello, my name is Brandelyn and I am writer, *pauses to accept greeting, Hi, like I said, I am a writer who doesn’t have time to write. I mean, it all started with getting a full time job. I thought that since this job was for a non profit, that it would give me all the time I needed to write, but I was wrong. Because my job is very personalized, the nights I don’t have to take work home are considered luxuries in which I find myself sitting in my living room curled up with the book I’ve been trying to read for the past few months, or catching up on all of the shows I’ve missed over the past few weeks. Not writing. Another excuse, and yes I do realize that I am making excuses, but hey this is my life, is that my laptop Dino, *pauses to acknowledge the chuckles from the other writers who have named their laptops; right, but Dino doesn’t like to cooperate with me. By time I get him to start up and get going, and I get myself going, the dang thing freezes up before I can even get a good grove going. So I just turn it back on and get into Spider Solitaire and keep it moving. It doesn’t take much to frustrate me. Then of course there is the fact that I have so much running through my head that its hard to focus on these imaginary characters and get their lives straight, when mine is feeling a bit no tanto mucho its dag nab self...so what is the balance? If I don’t work, I don’t get paid, I can’t pay rent, I can’t live, but if I don’t write, I carry my stress badly, I feel guilty, I feel incomplete as a human being. I know you’re thinking that this is a bit dramatic, but its how I feel. I am a writer. That is what I do. That is what defines me as a person, and if I can’t do it, doesn’t that make me incomplete? *pauses to acknowledge the nods of her fellow group members...So I don’t know. I’m hoping that joining Writers Anonymous will help me feel like I’m not a horrible person because my pen has gotten dusty. It is my hope that this is just one of those writers block moments. That one day, the sun will shine again and I will be able to find my voice as a writer once again, and get my pen to going. I don’t know. They say that all things come to an end, and maybe one novel and book of poetry and two half novels that I just can’t seem to complete, and the monthly column in that magazine in New York and the writing prize I won in college are it for me. Maybe that’s the end of the rode. I think I’d be okay with that if I could just get this novel finished. If I could just squeeze it out of my soul where it is churning and begging to be cultivated. Maybe then I could lay it all to rest and just be your average joe. I don’t know. But thanks for listening.
*sits down to the sound of applause from her fellow writers who have been there and done that and know exactly what she is going through...she sits down and crosses her feet at the ankles, suddenly feeling better for having gotten that off of her chest....
