Sometimes, when I look at my old blog posts, I contemplate my long-held dream of becoming a writer. By “writer” I used to mean someone who wrote fiction or poetry. A published author. From an early age I knew there was stuff in my head\u2014I would spend most of my waking childhood hours sketching sequential drawings in an attempt to purge it all out. I wonder\u2014and I’m sure this is not the first time I arrive at this question\u2014whether my adult anxiety stems from the absence of a purging valve to let out the contents of my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Convinced that writing was my calling, I made many embarrassing attempts at both fiction and poetry, all the while maintaining a couple of blogs (yes, like this one). Some of the stuff I made got published in school journals, and I was even invited to read at a poetry festival, so I’m guessing I wasn’t terrible, but it still feels like the attempts were embarrassing. As tends to be the case with anything you stop practicing, I stopped writing poetry and the well of ideas dried up. As for fiction, I don’t think I ever had a well of ideas to draw from. Or maybe there were seeds of ideas, but they just never sprouted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
An ex-boyfriend once told me I was nothing but a blog writer. His intention was clearly to hurt me, but I’ve increasingly warmed to the idea. I see myself as a diarist. My work may not bear witness to our tumultuous times, but it bears witness to the evolution of a single human being. That should be enough.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sometimes, when I look at my old blog posts, I contemplate my long-held dream of becoming a writer. By “writer” I used to mean someone who wrote fiction or poetry. A published author. From an early age I knew there was stuff in my head\u2014I would spend most of my waking childhood hours sketching sequential […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1000"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1000"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1000\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1025,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1000\/revisions\/1025"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1000"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1000"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/olaviakite.com\/maianebula\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1000"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}