Photo Source from a really cool blog post on buzzfeed
Writing. Sometimes I forget that it is an art form. Stories are art forms. Lots of great movies and shows come from great books. Me being a person that enjoys writing, it was always difficult for me to read. This was especially true in school. I’ve always done much better with writing than many other things for the simple reason that I could use the backspace key.
There were so many instances where I wish I could hit the backspace key, more so when I was in management communicating with my colleagues . Who knew that high school actually did count for something. That something I missed developing were solid social skills. Something that I wasn’t great at. I mean, don’t get wrong, I wasn’t completely weird, but I was close. In a lot of TV shows, movies and books, they tend to be depicted as “nerds,” and ironically enough, it’s actually kinda cool nowadays.
However, back in the 1990’s , being a nerd meant you were smart. Incidentally, racial stereo types meant being Asian automatically made you good at math. Not only did I suck at math, I was also very mediocre in the rest of my subjects as well.
I was that kid that almost had a learning disability.
At least thats what I’d like to believe.
I’ll venture out and say that it probably wasn’t the case. I was just an ordinary kid that didn’t know how to work hard. The reason why others did better in school was because they were taught how to work hard from an early age.
Work ethic, there really is no way getting around that.
Being good at anything requires a significant amount of work eithic. Discipline, hard work, blah blah blah.. elbow grease
That brings me back to writing. The last time i wrote this much I was in a sophomore in high school. Overweight, depressed and brimming with all kinds of emo.
Funny fact, I didn’t even know what emo meant back then. I didn’t know until Big Greg said it. I don’t think the comment was directed at me, but as I write this piece I’m reading what Emo means in the urban dictionary. Then I went ahead and googled Emo music and found this list of emo bands on wikipedia.
Desperately I searched, looking for bands I could recognize.
Jimmy Eat world .. the middle (click play, you know you want to)
Jeez they played this song so damn much.
As I look further down this list, much of the music I could recognize are post high school, early 2000’s. Each of the bands
Anywhere but Here
Boys Like Girls
I’m apparently an emo fan. Though, I was never really an emo because I was out of high school by then. The whole idea of being an emo kid came organically as I was writing this post. Specifically because when I use to write a lot, I was a sad depressed kid wishing to have a girlfriend.
My past self would look at my current self and think, “no &$*#% way.”
I’m pretty happy these days, but writing in non-sad conditions feels different. Who ever thought that you could be happy and write? Elizabeth Gilbert’s ted talk quote comes to mind:
“..you’re going to work your whole life at this craft and nothing’s ever going to come of it and you’re going to die on a scrap heap of broken dreams with your mouth filled with bitter ash of failure?”
I’ll admit, it’s taken out of context.
Writing is like throwing a baseball. You’re delivering a fast ball, a good throw, but you got all this time to wind up. Winding up is the thinking, writing, editing and re-writing. It’s preparing before the delivery. Talking in person or talking on camera requires so much more quick wittedness. I also think that my humor, sarcasm and tone come out better with the written word than on video video.
It is possible to be good at this craft. It’s like training a muscle or training a specific movement. The more you practice it, the better you’ll get at it. In my situation, I’ll get faster too.
To work on this writing craft, I’ve been reading On Writing by Stephen King. I’ve never read any of his books, but I figured someone that is well known knows a thing or two about writing. I may never make an impact as much as Stephen King has but I can still make my mark on the world – and that’s all we are trying to do. (I didn’t really read it, I got the audiobook)
The gift of life is an amazing privilege. Having children has shown me what it means to be happy. Everybody misses being a kid. No worries, no drama, no job, no bills and no real pressing responsibilities.
My son is 7 years old and will be turning 8 this year. I remember being 7. That’s about the time you start to translate the world into your own meaning. You’re trying to find your place and wrestle with abstract concepts.
Creativity really comes alive and you want to make stuff, experience stuff and really be more immersed in life. The value of growing up is priceless.
I’ll end this blog post by saying, I’m still growing up.