Creeva’s World 2.0

My fam­ily doesn’t really real­ize why I write online. It’s kind of a for­eign con­cept to them that peo­ple want to share their thoughts online and be open and expres­sive. I guess they should have real­ized some­thing was odd about when I had my first poem pub­lished when I was 15 or 16 (It was one of those stu­pid poetry con­tests where they sell you the book at the end — I didn’t buy the book — but hope­fully I’m in the library of con­gress because of it).

I fol­lowed up on my high school class of Cre­ative Writ­ing with a fol­low up being an inde­pen­dent study (i.e. on your time no class time devoted) of Cre­ative Writ­ing 2. Mr. Schroeder was my teacher for both of those years. I had his wife in mid­dle school a few years pre­vi­ous and I can say he was a much bet­ter teacher. He would take my work give me sug­ges­tions and help me improve upon my writ­ing in dif­fer­ent ways. With pos­si­bly the excep­tion of band these two classes were the great­est of my high school career. The rest of the first cre­ative writ­ing class thought I was a brown noser — I was just really inter­ested and Mr. Schroeder helped fos­ter that.

I went away to col­lege tak­ing cre­ative writ­ing as a major. Iron­i­cally col­lege and I didn’t see eye to eye on a few things and we parted our sep­a­rate ways after one year. My writ­ing which hap­pened occa­sion­ally slowly fell off. I would write occa­sion­ally here and there but most the time it was just the start of things. I would wake up in the mid­dle of the night and just had to write some­thing down on paper. It was an obses­sion. I would get down on paper what I could go back to bed and not think about it anymore.

I had attempted a cou­ple runs at national novel writ­ing month but I did not man­age to com­plete those attempts. This year how­ever in Novem­ber, no mat­ter how crappy it is, I am going to pump out my first novel. I’m not sure yet if I’ll pub­lish it online, that way remain to be seen by exactly HOW CRAPPY IT IS. Hope­fully it will be good enough that I can repack­age it and release under the cre­ative com­mons license since I know full well it won’t be good enough for com­mer­cial sale. I can only hope that when I do get a novel done that is good enough; point­ing to pre­vi­ous work could help grease those wheels in the future.

As you can see from what I’ve dis­cussed, writ­ing tra­di­tion­ally has been an impor­tant part of my life. It started so I could romance a girl and I real­ized I had a tal­ent to some extent for it. Maybe it’s just my ignor­ing of crit­i­cism. I hope my writ­ing does not come out like the girl who can’t hold a note at a col­lege frat party that gets up drunk and naked on the pool table in the frat house. The only rea­son they endure her singing is because she is naked — I am fully clothed. If I was naked how­ever I don’t even think you have made it this far into reading.

Blog­ging for the most part allows me to give a pur­pose to myself and my writ­ing. I’m hop­ing it hones it just a bit more as I get back into prac­tice and do more of it. We shall see. Until then it’s a diver­sion and a per­sonal enti­tle­ment that can con­fuse those that don’t understand.

For the one per­son out there that can kind of under­stand — she can remain bemused.