Practice

A few years ago, I had come to the decision that I was going to pursue writing as an occupation. I should let you know that I have come to this type of decision before. I would estimate about every one to two years in my life since the age of 18. Upon my most recent realization of my Scribner's destiny, I enrolled myself into a Saturday workshop. It was early winter and it just seemed perfect; cold winter days, quaint classrooms warmed by space heaters, and large knitted loosely fitted sweaters. A perfect environment for enlightened essay writing. The first day of this workshop the soft spoken Saturday instructor told us something that I found very disturbing at the time. He said "writing is work". You must work at it everyday. You must practice in order to perfect your craft. Great, I thought! Another thing to put work into. I left the class that day and never returned. I prefered the words flowing my fingers bit; writing out perfect stanzas in my first drafts never to be revisited again in a effort not to stain the originality of the thought. This was the life I wanted. I would prefer not to sit a a computer and endure the hours upon hours of forced script and awkward sentences. So, two years later here I am. I am currently super time impoverished and have no energy for anything other than work and family...yet I feel the need to practice. Not for occupation but for something else. Don't know yet. We will see what comes of it.