Thank you, internet...

I've been blog browsing a lot lately. Reverb10 and the lovely list at Dining with Small Monsters have been feeding an itch that started quite a few months ago. Google Reader got me through some tough spots in November. Ever since discovering the wonder that is the RSS feed, I've been subscribing to scores of blogs from writers and authors alike, webcomics that make me want to cry while I smile, and a crapload of other goodies. Just recently, I actually finally subscribed to Neil Gaiman's blog.

There's something to be said about reading about people's lives. Some people brush off their activities, preferring to jump into what they were thinking about rather than their physical actions, some people will linger on the smallest details. Some people manage to make their lives sound like novels and some people are abrupt and funny and satirical. 

I mentioned Neil Gaiman because, reading his blog, I felt so comfortable. There are some blogs that are "informative". You read them like a newsletter. There are blogs that are deeply personal, almost exclusively so, making references and in-jokes that no one but the author understands. There are blogs filled with random thoughts, or carefully crafted humor. Gaiman's blog felt like a conversation, like a storyteller weaving his magic about the simplest things, which is what it was. And it was beautiful, even when it talked about things that I didn't understand because I have no history with them. The entire thing felt so careful and yet so relaxed. It made me happy just to read it, even without context to what he was writing about. 

I have a hard time writing about myself in anything that resembles beautiful writing. I feel presumptuous when I do so, like my life is too boring, too mundane, and trying to add deeper meaning makes it silly and that I'm silly for doing so. But at the same time, I want to talk about the little things I notice, tie my life together into a story, write something that will take people's breath away. But I don't know if that's me, if that's my voice. Perhaps that's something I can cultivate.

All I can say is thank you to the people who bring us the internet. It is such an amazing thing in being able to read the wisdom and nonsense of others, as well as put out my own musings and scribblings.

Feet on the ground...

So I was watching Coraline for the first time today. Wow. The visuals were uh-maze-eeeeng and I constantly had to remind myself that was all done with stop-frikking-motion. Utterly blew my mind.

Anyway, as I added it to my mental list "Neil Gaiman books I've read/movies I've seen", I was momentarily discouraged. For a long, aching moment, I wished I could be the prolific literary genius that is Gaiman. I mean, how could I, a little girl not even quite twenty, even aspire to be as successful as someone like the Neilster? He is a giant and I am a nobody. He's written reams of award-winning novels/plays/comics/everything and I'm barely scribbling lately. How can I even attempt to write heartwrenching stories full of vibrant characters and rich plot when there are people out there who do it so much better than I do? How dare I even want to try?

Reality check, chicky-dee.

I am only nineteen. I'm barely an adult. It's not like you have to come out of the womb a genius. It's not like I have to instantly be a brilliant writer. Neil himself wasn't published until twenty-three. I have time to make a name for myself. You have to start somewhere.

Neil's been writing for decades now. He's had time to hone his craft and it took him years and years to build up the reputation he has now. It's not like he was an instant household name the first time he was published. I'm still just scribbling things, still learning. I've only been seriously writing for eight years, but half of that was mostly just learning how to build a cohesive story.

So, rather than be discouraged by the fact that I'm not Neil Gaiman or J.K. Rowling or Isaac Asimov, I need to just remember that I'm still young, they started out nobodies too and that just because I'm not famous doesn't make me any less of a writer. I have just as much potential as they do and it's my job to make something out of that, rather than whine about how I'm still at the bottom of the food chain. So, I need to get off my duff and start actually writing so that I can look Neil Gaiman in the eye and say,

"Hi there. I'm a writer too."