I am a writer. In my heart and soul of minds, this is what I am meant to be. It hasn’t been an easy thing to come to terms with but deep down, I’ve known for a while exactly who I am and have always been.
Accepting that I am a writer is a breath of fresh air. It’s like that breath of fresh air you get when you finally step outside after a long day indoors, slaving away at work in hot and sweaty conditions. It’s an inner peace, a sense of calm. Paradise, if you will. A place for me and me only. A place where I can stand in the midst of the subtle waves in this Paradise world of mine and just be…Free. Free from the chains and paths that led me in different directions, away from paradise. It led me into forest, the sauna, the desert, the sandpit. Anywhere and everywhere but the one place that was meant for me.
You wouldn’t think being a writer would be such a difficult thing to accept. I think the problem was that being a writer comes with too much uncertainty. I’m talking about writing novels specifically. Yes, there are people that make it. J.K Rowling hit the jackpot with her Harry Potter series. You have people like Stephen King, Jacqueline Wilson, George R R Martin, Stephenie Meyer, Suzanne Collins….endless authors who have made it. Still, the life of a writer is a game of chance. Even if you somehow managed to get published, that’s no guarantee that your book would sell, and there’s even less chance of making an actual living out of it. It’s like being a singer. So many people want to be singers, but only a small percentage will make it to that level. The level where they are actually earning enough to quit their day job.
Deep down I knew this, so I told myself that I could just keep writing as a hobby and pursue other careers. Nothing wrong with writing on the side whilst having a proper career, something that would be more attainable to get into. That’s what stopped me from taking Creative Writing at University, after hearing or reading that taking creative writing was pointless. What job opportunities would come from a creative writing course? It may help you to become a better, stronger writer but it would hardly help you to earn 21 grand a year!
I listened to the critics, and instead of following my heart I followed my head. I was volunteering as a radio presenter at a local radio station, which is something I enjoyed doing. On the side I made music for fun. These were two things I thought I was okay at, so when I found a course in Music Technology and Radio Broadcasting, it made sense for me to do it. I mean, when University was all said and done I could pursue a career in radio or as a sound engineer or something. That would be so much easier than a career in writing, right?
Needless to say, after completing my first year of university I knew the course wasn’t for me, but it was too late to back out. It wasn’t like I was paying to go to Uni for free. University is an expensive deal. 9 grand a year and that’s not even including the loans and grants. It boggled my head to think of the money I’d have to pay back and the sheer effort of switching courses so I did nothing. I continued on, my secret passion lingering inside.
I’ve known for a while that I’ve wanted to be a writer. All I want to do is write stories. That’s it. I’ve accepted that this is the path I want to take, no matter what the end outcome may be. That is my inner peace.