Accomplishments

Writing a book began a string of miracles and accomplishments. Let me go back. I actually finished a book. As in, complete. As in, done. When I tell friends this, they give me this weird look, like I just reached from behind me and pulled Bin Laden out of my ass. Ta-da!! I get the same incredulous, flabbergasted response, “Wait a minute. Do you even read?”

They have every right to judge me. Those in my circle know that I lean more toward media of the cinematic persuasion. It was my dream major. I know just about every movie ever made or at least know who starred in it. Though not quite a victim of ADD, my attention span only reaches to the length of my arm. Why spend days saying something when it could be wrapped up in two hours?

Prior to this triumph, I’ve never finished anything in my life. All of my art work has blank spaces in the canvas; even the walls of my room are half painted. Every story, every concept that ever met pen to paper fizzled after three weeks of writing.

But some ideas would not leave me alone. Random scenes kept me up until the wee hours of the night, taunting me, like that dream where you have to use the bathroom but you’re too lazy to get up. I needed that push, that drive, that fit of madness to instigate an extensive writing session. There comes a time in everyone’s life where you have to get up, or risk wetting your bed.

Finally, I got in front of a computer and started to write, holding myself hostage until I got every word down. I almost popped a blood vessel in the process, but it was a small price to pay for creativity. After a year, it came to the point where I couldn’t stop. Images would flash in front of me, somewhere between my eyes and the screen, spilling torrents of inspiration that were for years blocked by laziness and indecision. Sometimes, I had no idea what I was writing. Next thing I knew, 50 pages turned into 300. Since that time, I’ve gotten over my lack of enthusiasm and wrote four stories. Even if I end up hating the story, I still can look back at the end of the day and say that I finished something. As in, complete. As in, done.