Write My Life

I’m a horrible writer.

I’ve written this terrible story where not much of anything really happens in the world of the main character. There are no epic tragedies or experiences that the protagonist needs to overcome. They never go on any sort of quest or journey. Plus, the protagonist is not all that memorable if I’m terribly honest. It’s one of the worst pieces I’ve ever written.

Oh, wait, no. That’s my life.

I’m trying to improve myself as a writer. I want to become a good writer, but I seem to be awful at trying to write the one story that should be the absolute easiest to write: my own. No one knows my story as accurately as me, so I should be amazing at telling it since I know each and every detail of each and every story I’ve ever lived. To add to this, I should posses the keen ability to compose a near perfect, truthful story with compelling characters, witty dialogue, and an airtight narrative.

Writing is what I went to grad school for, and my undergraduate degree is in literature. I should be better at all of this.

In grad school, I took two separate writing fundamentals classes, one for fiction and one for non-fiction, to better instruct me on how to construct the narratives that I was about to write. I learned how to develop characters and express their thoughts, their actions, and their personalities. The characters that unfolded on the pages of my stories were vibrant and dynamic. They themselves could tell their stories without even an actual story involved.

I just wish I was equally as good and constructing myself in my own narrative.

As a character, I’m nothing special, and that’s one of my least favorite qualities as a narrator. I know I have personality traits that are worth an audience’s time, but I have no idea how to best bring them out to show off.  I am my own worst character, the character with untapped and underused potential. I know exactly what I can do. I know who I am. This should be easy.

I just don’t know if I’ve done a good enough job expressing my story’s character to the world.

Adding to this problem, I’m not sure how my story is to be told. Working on bettering my own narrative is going to be trickier as I don’t have complete control over my own narrative. There are factors and details that cannot be written, erased, or changed by my own hand. It’s even more difficult because it’s hard to be that open and honest, and as honesty is the most import factor for me as a writer, telling my real story is really scary.

Despite all of these problems, I’m still going to try and tell my story.

These daily blog posts are helping me day by day to capture and express my own narrative. Each day, I fire up my MacBook Air, and I write. I make the attempt to crack through my shields and willingly be vulnerable to strangers because I know that the more I write, the better I will get. Working in my favor is one fact.

My story is still going.


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