It’s really interesting how us writers function. We all seem to be able to relate to each other, yet many times we have backrounds that are nowhere close to relatable. An example is, I’ve met professional writers that are extrememly social, and I’ve met some writer’s that I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the first real person that they had seen in a week. The huge differences in our backrounds is amazing.
What’s even more cool is that some of us seem to just write ourselves into existence. When I first started writing, I wrote just to try it out. I wrote for hours everyday for a about a month. I learned to enjoy writing, but I didn’t achieve anything. I stopped the writing and focused my time in other places. Two years later that changed.
I wrote to exist. At the time I was struggling with many different issues, and instead of falling to despair, I started writing again. With a blackened heart, I wrote everyday, instead of dwelling on whatever troubles I had to deal with at the time. I wrote simply because I wanted to exist somewhere outside my troubled mind. And it worked.
When I wrote my first book it was only about twenty pages long. It was boring, and riddled with errors but I didn’t care. I figured that I at least exist somewhere. Then I started this blog. “I’ll write what I have to say” I thought to myself. And I didn’t think that anyone would read it.
As I wrote I got ten people to read my blog, and my mind was blown (nevermind two of the people I specifically asked to read it). So I decided to keep writing. I wrote and I wrote hoping that I would matter to someone, somewhere.
But sadly it wasn’t paying off anymore. I was lucky to get a single reader whenever I posted. I wrote what was in my heart, but my emotions didn’t seem to matter. I wrote what I thought people wanted to hear, but apparently they didn’t want to hear it.
I was depressed because of it. I tried to figure out how I was supposed to exist again, then I remembered something. I remembered that most people don’t only exist in writing. So I started applying my writing to every other part of my life. I wrote for family, I wrote to teach, I wrote for friends, and I continued writing for my blog. And when I had written all of those things, I had officially written myself into existence. My small following of readers expanded slowly everyday, until I had readers from across the globe.
In the end I learned a major lesson, it doesn’t matter what you write. Writers are a breed all on their own. They’re almost like powerful psychics, because they put their thoughts down on paper, which in turn enters the mind of everyone that can read. It isn’t easy to write a novel, a popular blog, or even express your personal thoughts, but worthwhile things aren’t often easy.
No matter what you write, it makes a difference and adds to your life. I highly suggest that you add your own writings anywhere you can. It really helps. And to those who already have been writing on their blogs, you exist to me and inspire me.