Confession time. It's embarrassing, but I must admit that I've written a book. I know, I know, it's a super cliche thing to do and before long I'll probably be wearing one of those ridiculous French hats in all black and have everybody snap fingers when I'm done reading my dark poetry but don't get ahead of me. That will be when I'm a Psych major and have deep, philosophical garbage about everything. I'm not that crazy yet... I don't think. Truthfully, though, I finished my first book last week and now, I don't know what on earth I'm going to do.
I finished the first revision not long ago and decided early on that it is nothing more that mediocre for a first attempt. I'm proud of it though. In fact, I'm giddy. I was like a little kid who was anticipating their birthday party or something. I stayed up all night, tucked my head under the covers, turned on my flashlight, and dreamed of all the magical places I would go with my book. Honest to goodness, I had a book of Chuck Norris jokes that was roughly the size of my finished novel and I clutched to it, pretending it was my book and pretending to sign autographs. Yes, I am a Senior in high school, but that is beside the point- I was not being immature, I was giddy. In my mind, Sarah Palin's book would drop in the best sellers list and people would charge big bucks to pay for my autograph. Reality is, though, that Sarah Palin probably doesn't care about my po-dunk attempt at novel writing and in reality, it really isn't anything special.
This isn't the first time I've ever done something with my writing. In the fourth grade, I won a contest in which I got a short story I had written published in a book of some sort that probably ended up on the shelf of some good old American, Bible bet hippie in the Midwest. I was darn proud of it and I got a blue ribbon, which I promptly pinned on my blouse like I was being shown at a fair or something. Later, in the 8th grade, I did the same thing, but I was in junior high and in junior high the only things that concern kids are getting rid of pimples and talking to girls, so I had better things to be doing than flip out about winning a contest. By 9th grade, I finished my first short novel of sorts with a short story I had written the year before, but I think I locked it away and never showed anybody the story after I killed the main character off with a bayonet at the end. It creeped me out and so now, it lurks either on the bowels of my laptop or in some dusty folder in a drawer somewhere like a creeper. Tragic, huh? Finally, not but a few months ago, I wrote some play about an interrogation room and it had a film noir set up to it, but that too got pushed aside when I was finished with it. So as you can tell, I have a lot of time on my hands. I figured my only choices to fill that spare time up was either Star Trek or writing and obviously, for your sake, I chose writing.
But no, I really did it this time. The manuscript to my little book is sitting dormant on my computer, waiting to receive its due. Only the Lord knows what will happen to it and only He knows why I'm writing about it for everyone to see tonight other than the fact that I'm excited about it. I know the book might suck, but I don't care. I'm happy that I did it. This week got me thinking, after my grandmother just recently passing. I wondered what my bucket list would be like, what things I wanted to do before I died. Before, I restricted the list to grandiose things like skydiving, bungee jumping, white water rafting, and anything else that would make me crap my pants. But I realized that soiled underpants is not quite the legacy I want to leave behind should I leave this world any time soon. Instead, I found that getting excited about something is just as great of a thrill as anything.
I love watching people get excited about stuff. I think everybody does. People loved watching Tom Cruise drive a spike in his sanity over Katy Holms a few years ago. People like watching Conan O'Brian headline the Tonight Show and try. People like watching Trump fire innocent temps, the only thing in this world that gives that man any satisfaction aside from the occasional rogue, genuine hair follicle that makes it through his toupee. My personal favorite is Paula Dean on the Food Network. That granny can make sugar enriched food almost as good as she can eat it. As for me, I like to write, and even if it is crummy or even sometimes creepy, I do it anyways because I get excited about it.
I don't know what you are excited by but I'm sure you have something. I had a teacher who once told her classes that the only job worth having in this life is the one you love to do; getting paid to do it was a fringe benefit. So whatever it is you like to do, do it this week and don't let anyone stop you. Getting truly passionate about something is what loving life is all about and it is what the Creator loves to see his creation do. So here's to finding our true colors, as vibrant as they are, in whatever we do. If it is in talking to people, may you find the words to speak. If it is dancing, may you find your stage to prance on. If it is cooking, may you find the doorbell to my house.
As for me and my book, well, we're going to have a long journey I suppose. Maybe it'll get published or maybe it won't, I don't care. I just loved doing it. But who knows, maybe Sarah Palin will ask for my autograph one day.
KB
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