I am the Next J.K. Rowling?

The “fun” in “funemployment” might just represent the constant explanations that one has to give to strangers.

Random person: “Where do you work?”
Me: “I’m unemployed, looking for a job.”
Random person: “Oh! What do you do?”
Me: “I’m a writer.”

Let’s pause for a moment and recognize that “writer” is a very general term. But unless I want to stuff “Imaformerjournalist,butnowIworkinmarketing,socialmediaandwebsitecontent” into a 10 second answer, people would just stare at me blankly and think to themselves, “Geez, chick, I didn’t want to hear your entire resume.”

So instead I say “writer,” which makes me sound like I live in a Hallmark movie, probably wear a lot of cable sweaters, and live in a cabin on the beach.

There’s another version of this conversation that occurs.

Random person: “Where do you work?”
Me: “I’m unemployed, looking for a job.”
Random person: “Oh! What do you do?”
Me: “I’m a writer.”
Random person thinks for a bit, and then looks inspired: “You should write a book!”
sigh gifMe: “You say that like it’s easy.”

Brad & I were in Walmart the other day perusing TVs (we don’t need a TV, Brad just likes to look at them) when I had a moment of self-realization.

Me: “Do you think I don’t want to write a book because I’m a perfectionist? Like, I don’t want to write a book unless it becomes like the number one best seller in the world.”
Brad: “That’s the Bible.”
Me: “You know what I mean. I don’t want to write a book unless it’s an instant classic.”
Brad: “That’s the Bible.”
Me: “And Harry Potter.”

wizard harry potter

The issue with being a perfectionist is that it can be difficult to start something. My fear of creating an imperfect product stops me from proceeding further.

But I am trying out this whole new thing of conquering fear, so I thought I might finally give into the pressure of strangers (and my mom) and think about writing a book. I started mulling over story ideas while on driving to visit my in-laws the other day. I do my best writing when I’m driving, in the shower, or trying to sleep. Which is why most of my writing doesn’t happen or occurs on my iPhone (such as this blog post). Except when I’m driving, then I just have to hope the ideas don’t slip away and disappear.

I thought I was on a roll and probably creating a Pulitzer prize winner until I realized that I had pretty much rehashed the plot of “Hope Floats.”

hope floats cry

But it was a good start, amirite? I am right. Just let me give myself some form of credit.

It can be scary to attempt at something you’ve always wanted, but believed to be out of your reach. Just this weekend, Brad and I went on a bike ride through the neighborhood that ended with having to ride up the giant hill that our apartment sits perched on.

I was scared. I was sure I would either start rolling down the hill backwards, fall into the path of an oncoming car, or pass out completely.

I made it up that hill. Sure, I had to walk my bike the rest of the way to the apartment after conquering said MOUNTAIN, and sure, some old guy stopped and watched my progress because he thought I was going to die in the spot. BUT I DIDN’T, Y’ALL. I DIDN’T DIE.

hills are alive sound of music

Which brings me to my current life goal: FitBit’ing like WHOA. Combine that with my Pinterest obsession, recent healthy cooking binge, and mountain conquering, and I’ll probably be the most perfect person in the entire world.

I’ve changed my mind. The “fun” in “funemployment” might represent the small obstacles that you set for yourself and overcome.

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