Of writing and other realizations
The thing I don’t like about Livejournal is that I know everybody and everybody knows me. Sometimes it’s a good thing but at times like now, when I want to write for nameless, faceless people I prefer writing here. I dunno. Something about showing my innermost thoughts to people who know me and vice versa makes me feel a little awkward.
I am now officially ashamed to call myself a writer. I mean, what good is a writer who cannot write? Sure, I write here, but this is hardly literature. When I will actually be a writer/artist myself, I can’t tell. I was once told that you can’t force yourself to write fiction, and I think that might be true. It’s been a long, long time since the muse came back and when I try to write without any sort of inspiration whatever I put down on paper sounds like insipid crap. Unfortunately, I can’t call myself an artist either because writing is my only claim to fame. I cannot draw, perform, sing, or play an instrument (the last three things I can’t do, in front of an audience anyway). At the moment I guess I’m only a person who knows how to appreciate art.
Last night made me think of a lot of things about myself. Particularly stuff like writing. Aubs left right after Rhyme and Rhythms was over and because I still had an hour and a half to kill before my parents picked me up, I stuck around with Oz and the other people who were in charge of the show. We went to McDonalds for a late, late dinner when they were done fixing up and let me tell you, I felt so incredibly honored to be eating at the same table with real artists.
There’s a huge difference between the words “shy” and “awkward”. When I feel awkward around a person, it’s when I tell myself, “I wish I stayed at home, or that I was anywhere else in the world but here.” But when I’m shy I think, “Damn. I wish I could think of something profound or intelligent to say so that I can grab everyone’s attention or so I will be able to actually participate in the conversation.” I always feel both shy and awkward when I am in a group of strangers. Or rather, when I’m the only stranger in a group of people who know each other well. But last night I was only shy. For some reason I felt relaxed among these people, but like I said earlier I felt incredibly honored to be around them. I felt like it would be like an abuse of my privilege if I spoke up. So I just kept quiet and listened to their conversation.
What worries me is this. Oz introduced me to everyone, and the way he introduced them to me is this, “This is so and so, a Palanca award-winning playwright….meet so and so, a performance poet who holds workshops every now and then at Ateneo…” And the way he introduced me was this: “This is Lauren, an incoming freshman at Ateneo.” No awards attached to my name or anything like that. I know that right now I don’t have to be ashamed of that since I am only 17 and everyone else in there are in their early twenties or thirties. But what if I still don’t have any real accomplishments as a writer by the time I’m their age? What will my introductions be? “This is Lauren, a graduate of Ateneo.” And that’s it.
So there’s really not much I can do to remedy my problem except watch and learn and pray, pray, pray that the day will come where I will wake up and say, “Damn. I want to write a novel today.”
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10 Responses to “Of writing and other realizations”
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[...] me and vice versa makes me feel a little awkward. Read more… lauryn @ 12:10 pm [...]
Lauryn, I have more than simple faith in you. I know you can do what you dream. The skilled writing you even put into your journal is proof of that. Never doubt yourself. I know we haven’t talked for awhile, but I just wanted you to know I value your friendship and your great insight.
Lauren, you have accomplished SOOOO much in your life. You’ve created a very succesful web buisness, created a community where people can be themselves, and it if it weren’t for you, Sarah and Chris would have never met each other and thus never getting married. You’ve done all of this all before you reached the age of 18. I’ll be lucky if I can accomplish just one of those things in my whole entire life.
As for your writing skills, your stories on http://storyof.the-protagonist.com/ are amazing. You wrote those stories when you were only 16 years old. I don’t know of anyone who could write that well at such a young age. You have SOOOOOOO much talent. You’ll be a best-selling author in no time. Trust me.
Go back and compare your latest entries from ones from a few years ago. It’s obvious that you’ve grown immensely as a writer, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.
As for when you’ll be a writer, you already are. You write, therefore you’re a writer. Sure, you’re not published, but you’ve much have written enough to fill several novels, and you have an audience that reads every word. I’d be pretty happy if I’d accomplished that.
You don’t have to write literature to be a writer ;),and believe in yourself,you can do it.!
Laur-
Not everybody can be Nick McDonnel or whatnot but you have talents. You just have to appreciate yourself. Right now, I write. Write stuff that happens…Mary Sues that have absolutely no contribution to society but it’s an outlet. No matter how obsolete the things you write at least you practice.
By the way, was Ruey de Vera with you yesterday or perhaps Mookie Katigbak? (Watch out for the latter…She’s a genius…But a bitch. Hehe)
Awww, thanks everyone.
I’m touched. Really, I am. 
Paula: No…but the name Ruey sounds familiar.
Ruey’s the Associate Editor of Sunday Inquirer Magazine. And he’s going to be my teacher (for Creative Writing) in ADMU…Lolz. Best friend siya ng sister ko kasi. =)
I thought you were taking up Comm?
Yup, but a subject with him is required.