Yvette's Inner Geek Blog

I find myself leaning more toward nonfiction when I write. I still haven't written that First Novel that I'm supposed to throw away after I've written because chances are good it will be crap (though I'll be better for the experience - I heard this at some point in college and many of my fellow Creative Writing majors who completed their First Novels went on to agree with me).

I don't have the kind of passion that translates into fan fiction (like my friend Mala, who is High Queen of Fan Fiction in my opinion). I like sci-fi and fantasy, but I get bogged down in the details of stories or situations become too complicated for me to want to work through them.

When I tried (and didn't win NaNoWriMo again this year, the story I chose was definitely literary fiction. I snerk every time I say that I'm writing "literary fiction," because who am I to say that it will be literary?

Sorry for the emo I-want-to-be-an-author post. I went to Barnes & Noble last night for the first time in ages and the time just melted away as I made the rounds through all the different sections. I am leaving for Norway in one week to go to my little Norwegian sister's confirmation, which is a huge deal over there. I guess it could be compared to the 15-year-old Latina's Quinceanera, but probably a lot more low-key.

Why bring the Norway trip up all of a sudden? Because it's been ten years since I lived there as an exchange student. I graduated from high school in three years so I wouldn't have to worry about going back to my hometown high school afterward (great decision, but I kind of forgot how to study during my year there, which bit me in the ass in college when I tried to be a Bio major... maybe it helped me find the right study track after all).

It's been ten years, and I've been reflecting on that a lot. Where did I think I would be now? Have I done all the things I thought I would do by this point? It's not like me to set hard and fast goals, but I had lots of ideas and hopes and dreams and expectations of myself. It's most interesting to think about the surprising turns in my life (like the minor popularity of the Geek Test on the Internet, which was mostly a vehicle for Shiny! New! Email! back in 1996-1997) and the dreams that are still very much in place (to write and be published).

Last night I thought to myself, "It's about time I became a writer."

I said it out loud to Ben, who said "About freakin' time." How's that for a support? Or perhaps a kick in the ass? Or perhaps it's a sign that yes, this is what I need to do.

So I've typed this mini-manifesto up and I'm going to publish it in the modern way on my website. Then I'm going to go to work, where I am now the Marketing Editor for a medium-sized manufacturer of scrapbooking products, and I will write and edit my heart out for a steady paycheck. Someday, maybe, I will be able to write my heart out for myself (and maybe other people will be interested, too).

It's just about freakin' time that I try a little harder.

I bought my first Moleskin journal to take with me to Norway. I hope to spend lots of time writing in it. I just don't know what I'll do if, in another ten years, I still haven't written anything worthwhile. I think I've used up all of my excuses in the first ten years of adulthood. I don't want to disappoint the eight-year-old Yvette who first dreamt of being a writer and wrote the first words in her first journal almost twenty years ago: