Writer Die Bitch

 

If I had to pick a sentence to describe my life and career thus far it would be that three word descriptor: Writer Die Bitch. (Bitch meaning good, of course…of course. ;))

I mean not only is it a wonderfully punning – see what I did there? but because through the ups, the downs the back and around’s one thing has always proven true: I can’t live without my writing and my writing won’t live without me.

I have my words and my words have me, a completely codependent package of neurotic crazy that has pulled me from the average path and “progress” of life that would be deemed normal, acceptable and successful.

I have tried many ties to conform myself to others expectations – much to my shame and stubborn souls torment. I have fought my instinct and unconventional nature to better compromise with the outside world I so yearned to be, if not accepted by then wanted by.

All artist want to have their art acknowledged. Want to know that what gives them purpose they are doing for a purpose, a greater purpose then just themselves then just their own need or desire to create.

We burn with the passion of the creative that is often times all consuming. One cannot predict muse, cannot put a time table to its workings. Being a creative soul is not nine to five it is all of the above. Creative is not linear, creative is as illusive as the soul and vital to its survival. Yet we live in a conventional world. We live in a society that would try to regulate it by putting it inside the box of impossible.

How often do you see in whatever creative field you work in, not just writing, how hard it is to “break in” to be successful, that success, true success is few and far between. Sure there are exceptions but those exceptions can’t, wont be and aren’t you, etc and so fourth.

It can be disheartening to constantly be bombarded with the words “You will not.”

I do not need to be coddled in my creative. Any true creative will tell you that they don;t do it because its easy. They do it because it is them. They do it because they have a need to do it. An inner magnetism that pulls them to do what they do against all outer barriers and “better” judgement.

Rejection is part of the subjective business, it goes hand in hand, and I can deal with it. I love constructive criticism and never take it personally but rather answer the subjective with my own logical interpretation of pattern and personal taste. I’m actually rather good at it if I do say so myself.

But the criticism that is personal, that isn’t just attacking your work but you as the creator of that work is what I have had to fight and feel there has been enough of.

The constant assumption that being a creative person means being adrift, lazy, lacking, someone who has no sense or concept of the “real” world or doesn’t take life seriously because you are trying to forge your own path or *gasp!* live a life based around doing what you love.

I don’t have to prove myself to anyone or anything. Not society, not my parents, not my brothers, sisters, friends or neighbors. Society can paint me as a deadbeat, as a dreamer and a loaf. As someone who is not truly a “successful person” because they have chosen another path to walk or different beat to dance to.

I’m tired of trying to demonstrate my legitimacy, to prove that I am a worthwhile person, because, dammit, I am!

I am not America’s sweetheart. I am nobodies nuclear dream. I am my words and my words are me.

And no longer will I doubt the potency of the path that chose me.