A confession of sorts

See all those activities listed at the top of the right column? I recently added "writing" to the list. Tonight I bit the bullet and moved it to the top.

I started writing again a few weeks ago-- not the crappy poetry I wrote in high school, not just blogging or putting together grant applications, but actually writing-- and it's been a very eye opening experience for me. I don't have any perspective yet on the actual quality of what I'm writing, but just giving myself permission to do it, and to do it badly if need be, has made me realize that it never stopped being a central part of my identity. Trying to force that energy into other activities has not worked out well (three aborted attempts at grad school, anyone?). More than once I've considered subtitling this blog "Jill of all trades, master of none."

I don't have any illusions that I will become some world-famous author, or even get published at all. My goal, for now, is to finish a novel. I'm not even putting the pressure of a "good" novel on myself... yet. Just finishing will suffice. But I'm hoping that by publicly outing myself, that goal will be a little easier.

I don't know why it seems like a dirty little secret-- probably because the things I wrote as a teenager are so intensely embarrassing now-- but there you have it. I'm a writer, and I'm adding it to my list of titles with equal importance as wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. My goal is to finish a novel. And no, you can't read it. Yet.