Nine years ago, while my kids were still young and all at home, I finally graduated from college with a degree in Communications. Despite the huge effort to graduate, I never really did anything with the degree other than keep this blog alive. Sure my posts are random, unfocused, and without any end goal in sight, but I keep posting. I keep writing. I keep trying to make my degree mean something because I wanted that degree so badly. I was obsessed with completing a degree at the expense of my children.
In my recent past, I’ve had a writing coach. I’ve read books about writing. I get daily updates from writers’ websites. I’ve read countless books of fiction to mimic the style of a successful author I like but the only thing I’ve ever followed through on was a booklet I wrote about getting one’s home to sell faster and for more money (don’t look it up—I’m full of shame over that booklet).
The thing I need to accept is that I am not a successful writer so what this blog has turned out to be is a hobby, and I’m okay with that. It takes the pressure off. It lets me write poetry one day, deliver a rant the next, a review of a product or service the week after that, and then nothing the following week. Having writing as a hobby allows me to make mistakes, to try new things and fail, and to explore without fear. A hobby is something you enjoy doing and I enjoy the writing.
This year, I started a book from a writing prompt my writing coach gave me. Thus far, I think it’s at 20 or so pages. Recently, however, I had to put it aside for a bit because, although it’s fiction, like many writers I’ve taken a portion of reality and have woven it into the story. The story got a little too close to home, and I couldn’t deal with what was going on in real life and in the book at the same time. It was a double whammy. I’m hoping to return to the book shortly, though. Maybe the book will be a success once it’s finished and I can finally take the quotes off around author.
My degree hasn’t meant much in the grand scheme of things—it’s never added to the bank account or helped me with anything other than leading me to write for pleasure. For this reason, I’m grateful and content.
UPDATED: February 9, 2019