in books. *but that's an over-simplification. as are much of the things that i say. also, that last sentence was another over-simplification.
it all started with my summer internship. i got it too easily, i think, and it was too much an afterthought. a fleeting thought --oh, it would be nice to intern at a newspaper while i'm home,-- one e-mail and one three-minute phone call later, i had a paid freelance writing internship at a local paper.
normal reaction: --awesome!-- after all, i am studying journalism, do write for my college paper, and, for as long as i can remember, have automatically answered 'journalism' to any question about my future, my hopes, my dreams.
my reaction: --cool, whatever.-- college has not turned me into an indifferent, apathetic person. i am as passionate about writing as ever. so, why now? why am i suddenly dreading making phone calls to the people i'm writing about? why is going into the news room a chore?
so far i have come up with three viable reasons.
1. my journalism dream was some sort of twisted projection from having watched too much gilmore girls, read too much about watergate, talked too much about how journalism was 'the fourth branch of government,' and thought way, way, way too much about how i could change the world with my reporting. there was no way the reality could (or would) live up to my fantasy.
2. i am being melodramatic and not giving the internship enough of a chance. it's a smaller newspaper, and the freelancing doesn't allow for any sort of regimented schedule; i am simply not getting the full journalistic experience.
3. i am just no longer (or never actually was) interested in journalism.
reason #3 -- the scariest of all -- when coupled with reason #1, brings us to why i am drowning. now that i'm semi-embracing the fact that i am not interested in journalism, i have to begin again and figure out what i am interested in. this means re-reading everything: short stories, novels, comic books, magazine reporting, blog posts, the list goes on and on.
they say that when you're drowning, you should, above all else, remain calm. flailing about won't do anything but scare you more. does this apply to when you're drowning in your own future?
I see the impetus for a sooner road trip now. I think one of the scariest and simultaneously obviously empowering things we can do, ever, in life, is to listen to our own voice instead of telling it what to say. I know you already know that and I know that sounds like some hippie shit. What I'm saying is, you love writing, you seem to LOVE creative writing, and you gotta do something every day that you love to do for the pure act of doing it. You could try setting an hour or two aside each day, and work on some stories or personal essays or whatever you've had on a back burner forever, and see what you have at the end of a few weeks (plenty of prompts out there too...)
ReplyDeleteMaybe try something totally random that you don't think you'll like (like be an octopus-breeding apprentice), just to create an internal scale of how confortable and in love with activities you can feel. Haha hold off on the rereading everything with new eyes, you can read fresh things now. Also, if there's one book about reporting you feel like reading, make it "Around the Bloc" by Stephanie Elizondo. I would send it to you but I fear it wouldn't get there in time...it's a goodie.
Any open mics in leroy? :)
-S
p.s. listen to prince.
literally downloading a prince album as i write this, but what i really came here to say is:
ReplyDelete1. all of the above is very true.
2. you should read this blogger, she's exceptional: http://youveescaped.com/
^ her latest post says some things that are similar to what you are saying, but also different.
3. no career is going to be perfect, and it will sometimes just feel like work – that is the way of things. but, if you "follow your bliss," you will ultimately end up doing something important. hey, fuck, look at E.O. Wilson. he studied ants and has done more for science and the environment than most people i can think of. i think it all comes down to the fact that he did what he loved.
maddd love