The question from this month’s #IWSG newsletter is: What was your very first piece of writing as an aspiring writer? Where is it now? Collecting dust or has it been published?
As I say in my bio, “I’ve been writing so for as long as I can remember, as long as I could hold a pencil, or pen, or marker.”
Seriously. I have a full drawer in my file cabinet that is just my writing, or ideas for stories. The first folder is dated 1978, so I was merely seven at the time I wrote those “poems”, and I’ve saved them all these years (almost 40!).
And… all of it is collecting dust. Well, moldering. In organized files. Because I’m that way. Or I was…
I had some success in college, and right after, getting my work published, but then I got sucked into my career, and then I turned into a Sick Person, and … if you’re a person who notices such things, you’ll notice I haven’t even been blogging. My last post on here was a month ago, for this very reason, the Insecure Writer’s Support Group.
It’s not that I don’t have things to say or write, it’s just that as a Sick Person, I’m feeling the futility of well, lots of things, writing being one of them.
And it’s funny, because the word “aspiring” in the question strikes me. I never was “aspiring”. I just… was. Am. A writer.
I just don’t happen to write at the moment.
(And no, those early works will never see the published light of day. Because. Bad. Childish. But I’m glad I have them.)