I feel like a lot of older people I know, particularly women, write memoirs. It isn't simply self-indulgent, either. Their stories are rich, interesting, and at times dramatic and dark. Their lives have a cinematic quality that makes me wonder if I'm boring or just young. Maybe the world was just more interesting then, both in good and terrible ways. We've been robbed of a lot of romanticism in these modern times. It's not "He wrote me the most beautiful love letters," it's "OMG, he put something adorbs on my Facebook wall and then texted me 'good morning!'" It's not "he walked me home from school every day" or "he threw pebbles at my window," it's "Last Saturday, I ran into him at the club and then we hooked up." Maybe it's that inelegant scene that takes away rather than gives excitement. Do we have intricate, compelling stories to tell? No. Where is that semi-magical quality? I don't even remember so much of my adolescence because it was wasted on pointless activities like Myspace. Where are my close scrapes and adventures? It's probably about time to start making those memories. I don't want to wake up twenty years from now and realize that there's nothing worth writing about in my life.
Of late, I've had a few things worth mentioning--love and false friends, hard lessons learned, and all that jazz. It's a start. But I don't want your typical picket-fence American dream. Neither do I want the partying lifestyle chosen by so many of my peers. I want a depth of experience as well as adventure. Worsening this thought, ridiculous as it is, is the fact that I saw The Hobbit the other day. There's a scene where Gandalf says something to the effect of 'When did your mother's dishes and a few doilies become more important than adventure?' Bilbo just sits around smoking his pipe at first, like all of the other respectable hobbits his age. But then, he snaps out of it and plays a part in a world-changing journey. Now that's what I want--to get out of my hobbit hole. I don't want to be showered with troll snot or find any evil jewelry, persay, but I do want something epic to come along.
I really have been thinking on this for several days, and today, after reading 6 Harsh Truths That Will Make You a Better Person (from one of my favorite humor sites) I decided I should stop planning things I'll never write. Not that I'm resolving to blog more often, as I often have. Life happens. But creativity should happen, too. Anywho, in particular pertaining to my writing, I have found that my lack of experience is completely upsetting. I want to write the kind of thing that sweeps you up and takes you to another world. But they say write about what you know. In the grand scheme of things, I don't know much. I've seen next to nothing. Some of that is owing to being a poor kid. But you know, a lot of it is my own fault.
So many of us are unsatisfied with our lives. Well, we spend our hours in front of the TV or in shady places and wonder why nothing beautiful happens to us. You want to be a hero? Get off your ass, then. You want miraculous love? Offer much more of yourself than the bare minimum. You want to be remembered? Get your face out of the clouds of smoke and bottles of liquor and show kindness to a few people.
Always with the inspirational speeches, us writers. Maybe we'll take our own advice one day.
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