The things that become interesting...

...when you have more important things to do.

I used to love writing stories when I was younger. Not that they were any good, but I used to love writing them. As I got into my late teens, I found a notebook from when I was 14 and it had all these story ideas I’d written down back then. I read over them. Some of them were really good. One of them was so good that I suddenly found myself wanting to work on it again and write it up. This was when I discovered my dilemma:

I was good at story ideas… But I was awful at writing them.

I’d found this passion for writing, without being able to write at a good standard. I wanted to be an author, but how can you have a bestseller when you can’t even use a comma correctly??

Anyway, I still tried. And failed. But I kept going with the writing. I liked my ideas too much to just let them go, so I carried on and tried to improve my writing skills.

Eventually, I became ok-ish at the writing side of things. Then this November, in the middle of my most stressful time at university, I decided that I was going to take part in NaNoWriMo. For those of you who don’t know, NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month and to take part, you have to write a 50,000 word novel, in 30 days.

I had never stuck with a story long enough to get past 5000, let alone 50,000.

I have no idea why I thought it would be a good idea but I did it anyway and for some miraculous reason, I finished writing my first ever novel within the 30 days. With support from others taking part and the daily word goal to get it done, I got it finished!

Great! I thought. I can do it now! I thought

I thought that because I’d been able to finish my first, I’d be able to write up another one of my ideas.

WRONG.

Without the discipline of the 30 day deadline, I failed in motivating myself to actually write. I discovered how easily distracted I am and procrastination is now my middle name. What was I doing to avoid actually writing? Everything.

I signed up to Polyvore. 

I began making style sets for my characters, thinking it would help, when actually all it did was make me addicted to Polyvore and resulted in online shopping of the fashions I was finding there.

I signed up to Wattpad. 

I thought it would be a good idea to put my first story on there, get some feedback and learn about writing. Instead, I ended up playing word games with other users in the forum and read other users’ amazing stories, making my own seem dull and lifeless in comparison.

I signed up to Pinterest. 

I wanted to use it to create inspiration and resourceful clipboards. I planned to add pictures of locations and events that I was going to make happen in my story. However, all I ended up doing was finding a bunch of overly filtered pictures of dip-dyed hair and suddenly wanted to dye my hair pretty colours.

So, to conclude, I have no motivation and discipline issues when it comes to writing. The past month has taught me that writing one novel doesn’t mean I’ll easily be able to write another one, it’s just resulted in me having way more online profiles on websites I’m now addicted to that actually aren’t helping me in any way what-so-ever.

Procrastination for the win! 

*crawls backs into bed with too much chocolate and pins four more pictures of hairstyles on Pinterest.*

All Good Things...

... Must Come to and End

 So, after three long years, I have completed my last day as a university student… And I’m not exactly screeching joyful cheers from the rooftops.

I always assumed I’d be happy to finally leave the chaos of education. I have never had a break from it. I went straight from school into college, then onto university. I was excited to finally have my freedom. But that’s not what I felt when I walked out of the doors after my final exam. Instead, what I felt was panic.

Tidal waves of panic.

WHAT DO I DO NOW?

My life has been a constant stream of education and I have never left the security of it. Now, all of a sudden, I’m out in that ‘big wide world’ everyone talks about and I have no clue what comes next.  

Three years ago, I stepped out onto the grounds of my new university campus without giving a single thought to the end of that degree. I knew that I wanted a media degree, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it at the end. I loved film, television production, journalism and photography. I just assumed that three years of doings bits of all of them would suddenly make everything fall into place. Like I would wake up one morning and it would suddenly click.

Except it didn’t. I didn’t just suddenly realise what I wanted to do with my life. And now, after three years of film making and stressful assignments, I’m back where I was at the start. 

Stuck.

I don’t know why I expected university to solve everything for me. I went into it expecting more than what I got. I mean, sure, I learnt a lot about the subjects I was studying, but somehow I just thought I’d learn more about life as well.

You hear all those stories about going to university will create all these opportunities and you’ll ‘find’ yourself. Truth is that it wasn’t as life changing for me as people say it should be. I suppose, in a way, it helped me feel more at peace with myself. Before university I didn't have a ‘place’. I didn't it it. I used to change myself to blend in more with the crowds. But at university, I found friends who I had so much in common with that I didn’t have to change the person I was. So, I guess that’s one positive I can take away.

But what else?

What happens now?

Just hang around until my graduation and hope that I have some big epiphany? Guess I’ll just have to wait and see what fist life throws at me next.