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I have always wanted to be a writer ... oh, wait -- I AM A WRITER!!! I simply haven't been published yet. As a child, I would read books like they were going out of style, as if they'd no longer be available to me. I'd read for fun, sometimes reading an entire novel in less than a day. When I got to high school, I loved to write essays; and an English teacher took an interest in my abilities, helping me to improve them. She urged me to read more classic literature, and I remember enjoying Homer's Illiad and Oddysey, as well as Romeo and Juliet, when our class studied them. But, like a lot of teenagers, I had no desire to read the classics or any books for school -- just give me the Nancy Drew's, and the others like them. I did stumble upon a few that just happened to make it to the summer reading lists, however. Great works like Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry and Native Son, a few from Maya Angelou, and the poems by Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston. I even managed to read a few of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes books from a box set I received as a Christmas gift.

One book I remember reading as a teen was about a group of young people living on the edge in the midst of a drug-infested Harlem. The Children of Ham, written in 1977 by Claude Brown, completely captivated me from start to finish. Confession: I don't remember the entire story -- my memory is unforgiving when it comes to these things (even had to "Google" the title) -- they must be written down somewhere if they are to be drawn upon later; but I remember reading it as if I knew the characters personally, because the story was told so well. It was also the beginning of my quasi-desire to do investigative journalism. I thought it would be an easy way to tell the stories of people I'd met, but because some of my stories (and some of the people) were imagined, that desire didn't last long. Reemerging in high school, my journalistic side did an interview with a neighbor who, despite being my age, told me of her secret life as a prostitute. My tape-recorded conversation told of her pride in what she did to make money; but I have a hard time, to this day, believing her story. Knowing how naive I was at that time, I think that maybe she pulled a fast one over on me, but I still got an "A" for the project. So much for integrity.

I would dream of one day writing a soap opera for daytime television. With family members and neighbors talking around me often enough, I had plenty of drama to draw upon. Of course I don't remember it now (remember, it's an unforgiving memory), but I even had come up with a title. My "story," as my grandmother and her friends called soap operas, would have lots of black characters. I grew up in Washington, DC, and I didn't see as many white people out and about as I saw on television. Never quite bought into the idea that we were the minority, even though the school I went to for fifth and sixth grades was primarily white. I suppose it was a tiny act of protest that never went anywhere, but my story would definitely have to have been much more realistic -- think reality before reality TV. I suppose soap operas would have to have a staff; production facilities; and a network to back it among other things. Yeah, too much effort for something I only used to want.

But writing for magazines or an online "salon"? Now that's the dream. I read an article the other day, Twitter and The Butterfly Effect, that talked about the twitter phenomenon having translated some effective tweeters into "power bloggers", and are causing avalanches of follower "re-tweets". I have yet to get retweeted by any of the so-called twitter elite, but I have seen that a few of them are following me now...and I'm preparing for the "twitter tsunami." I understand that authors heavily followed have the potential to be picked up by mainstream media outlets in their particular niche market, thus bringing their followers to the outlet and creating ad revenue. Some of these power bloggers are found in several publications -- both online and in print. Take Toby Young, for example. He became "famous" for failing -- as an editor on assignment in NY for Vanity Fair, and as a Hollywood screenwriter -- because he lived to write a book about his experiences. His journalistic career had primarily consisted of critical opinion pieces -- theater, film, books, and restaurants, despite his Oxford degree. His ability to laugh at himself and criticize others transcended his circumstances, and the book was subsequently made into a movie. He now writes for several outlets, in addition to his own blog, and, of course, he tweets (or twitters?). He's also been invited or paid to participate as a "celebrity" in a few reality television shows.

OK, so now, I want to be a power blogger! I would absolutely LOVE to write all day and find articles of interest and value to my audience. Oh, to have an audience! And actually get paid to do such a thing??? (To be honest, if I had the resources, I'd probably pay publishers to allow me that privilege.) I'd love to be even a copywriter in an advertising agency. I had a job once at an firm where I answered the phones for the team, and the energy was electrifying, especially when they had pitch meetings to bounce ideas off one another. Then there's the op-ed columnist -- writing of important issues and sticking my two cents' worth in. That would be divine, considering that I have a fairly-opinionated mindset. Perhaps, one day... (dare I say it?), I could even be an editor of a magazine -- selecting what gets printed and how it fits in with the overall theme of the publication. That really speaks to my inner creative side. Imagine me, following in the footsteps of John H. Johnson, Susan L. Taylor, and Earl G. Graves, Sr. Wow.

Speaking of my creative inner self, when I grow up, I could be a songwriter. Songs have a special way of speaking to each of us. I can't begin to count the number of times that just hearing a song has lifted my spirit, or, simply caused me to really think about some things. Oh yeah, and I could be an advice columnist, too. I've been through more than a few situations (good and bad); I'm sure I could harness those lessons learned long enough to pass them on to someone else in need.

Writing is indeed a talent; and not all who write truly possess that gift. Time put my own urge to write on the back burner for a bit; and even the desire to read everything in sight is a distant memory, replaced by RSS feeds and twitter posts. Magazines tend to pile up on my coffee table before I have the time to read them. The last great books I fully read were Pearl Cleage's What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day; I Wish I Had a Red Dress, its sequel; and Robert James Waller's The Bridges of Madison County (before I knew there was a movie). Yes, time may have put a hold on my writing career, but that passion is burning in me now like it never was before. So I began to blog; and I tweet; and I post interesting article links and notes for my friends and family on Facebook. I will start reading all of these books I keep buying. I will keep reaching. And as I get stronger; I get better. And I begin to write the first of what will be a series of bestselling novels. Look out world, here I come -- the writer.

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Ahhh...the movies. Movies are the greatest. I don't remember the first movie I ever saw, maybe it was an animated one -- some kind of fairy tale that started my love for the dreams-do-come-true syndrome that classifies my life. My dad would take me to see the Disney classics, but maybe there weren't as many movies then, because I don't remember going to the movies that often. (I watched a lot of television, 'cause that I remember!) Daddy took me to the Star Wars premier at the Uptown Theater in DC (funny how I remember that, huh?); and I wasn't into sci-fi, but I remember thinking Princess Leia was cool, and that Chewbacca & R2D2 were my favorite characters. Mark Hamill was cute, but Harrison Ford was hot! C3PO got on my nerves and I was afraid of Darth Vader.

I remember the first film that ever scared me. It wasn't even a scary movie; it was more along the lines of historical fiction, I guess, and I really don't remember it. (It's fuzzy, but there may have been a bloody man being drug along behind a wagon, leaving his woman in tears.) The name of that film was Thomasine & Bushrod. My cousin, Phyllis, and I were stowaways on my other cousin, Carol's date. I was only about six years old then, but I knew that night, that whatever kind of fear I felt after seeing that movie, I didn't ever want to feel again. That fear kept me from sleeping for a long time! And even though my younger cousin, Crystal, went to see Jaws when she was six & was unfettered, horror movies for me were sworn off before I'd ever even seen one. No, I'm not a wimp, but I still pass on the scary stuff. Take me to a thriller instead -- that's scary enough.

The point here, is that movies pull at your emotions when they are done well, and those memories can live on for a long while. Granted, what is memorable or good to a six-year old compared with what is memorable and good to a thirty-six year old is different, to say the least. But the defining factor is that the storyline has the power to captivate the audience, but only if it is told well. That power lies within the hands of the director.

David Fincher, director of the last movie I saw, "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," uses inference effectively in several instances: to depict his aging, and to imply what Benjamin views and experiences throughout his life. Not to take anything from the winner or any other nominee, but if I had a vote in the Academy Awards, Fincher would have won (because my vote would have weighed more heavily than anyone else's, not because I didn't see the other movies), but I digress. Of course, the screenplay has a lot to do with how the story is told, but great directors choose what to show and what to infer, in order to pull the strongest emotion from the audience. To have the audience leave a theater imagining themselves on screen, or reinventing the end of the story as a result of watching a film, should be the ultimate compliment to a great director... after all, if the telling of the story wasn't that compelling, why else would it provoke such thought?

The attraction of a well-directed film is like nothing else to me. Direction is even more important in my opinion than the film being well-written, because the whole story is wasted if the lines are delivered incorrectly, or the set is unbelievable. Great directors can even make bad actors appear Oscar-worthy -- by exploiting the talent of the good actors, of course. (And we'll have to leave the list of who I think is good or bad at acting for another day, 'cause I think I may want to be an actress when I grow up, too -- and I don't want to lose you). The director tells the story. And when the story is told well, the captive viewer can really tell if the script is off. Have you ever heard a poorly-written line get delivered and thought, "nobody would say that!"? I sit in theaters & run just-spoken lines over and over in my head thinking how the intent could have been better portrayed if the actor had only put more inflection in his voice; or that the movie would have been so much better if only they'd had so-and-so do such-and-such when that that was said to her instead of just sitting there, or whatever the case may be.

As I watch movies, I imagine how I would direct the scenes. When I read good books, I visualize how I would direct the screenplay. I replay conversations I have had with my friends, co-workers, and family members in the camcorder of my mind as if I could change their outcomes. Seriously, the revamped versions are so much better than the originals. I wish I could show them to you! Hollywood, Toronto, Bollywood, Detroit (or wherever the film capital is nowadays) could really use my talent. I'm a beast!

Yeah, I think I'll be a great film director ...when I grow up.

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Reinvention 101

I've lived vicariously in a world where I must never grow up. If I never grow up, I may never have to choose a career to stick to. I've had a lot of jobs, but never a career. I've enjoyed following career paths, but have never completely gotten absorbed into one. It seems I constantly admire other people's positions, because whatever one I'm currently in just isn't enough, even if I like it. And the problem with that is, I always want a new career. I've been thinking a lot lately about how to get paid to do exactly what I love to do, since that seems to be the popular advice on choosing a vocation.

And what do I love to do? Well, I love to eat, sleep, shop, travel, and surf the internet; and I enjoy telling people all about the things I have done or learned or want to do. But I like to have running water, working electricity, a nice home and ride, and nice things around me; and I haven't quite figured out how I could twitter restaurant reviews while doing sleep studies at worldwide resort spa hotel locations, and still pay all of those bills. I'm sure someone out there is doing it, so let me know if you found the answer and you're just plain tired of it. I'd like to take your place.

Do you think I have a commitment phobia? I don't know, so let's explore that theory a little. I've never been married, although I've got three children who have the same father (I eventually had to leave him behind). This must say something about my ability to be stable, doesn't it? I stuck around for a few years (believe me, it was long enough!). I've changed jobs a bit, though, but I usually stay for at least a year before the boredom slips in. And although I haven't finished yet, I have worked extremely hard toward my undergraduate degree. I just keep changing my mind about what major I want the degree in.

So you say it must be a classic case of procrastination? Doubtful, since I have jumped into all sorts of things feet first, many times leaving my head completely out of the water. I've spoken with consultants about my dilemma and taken the personality type tests (I'm an ENTP); but they really only stirred up a desire of mine to be a career counselor. I'd love to be a public speaker or life coach, but I would probably need to have something to speak about (that people would pay to hear) and have some indication of a life that had been "coached" to success. I often think I'd be a great public servant, but I would need too many people to help me remember too many things. While some people stew over this decision for a few months in their freshman year of college, I've agonized over it for years. What I know about this is, that when I do find my path, I'll be great at it.

I realize this is a personal journey and that I must listen to my inner voice of reason, continually allowing me the revelation of discovery. That distinct voice says I am an entrepreneur at heart, only perpetually in starting position.

• "On your mark..."This is what I do best: constant work on my reinvention. My ideas are wonderful, and they usually will benefit others.
• "Get set..." The problems appear when I try to convince someone else exactly how this business will make any money. So I have the idea, chew on it for a while, and so that I'm held accountable, I talk about it to others who I trust won't take the idea from me.
• "Go! ...um,NOW??" And I leave it on the shelf while I get a job to pay the bills and bankroll my plan.

There is a plan -- almost to the point of overkill. I've bought the books on creating an LLC and writing a business plan; downloaded the feeds about networking basics; attended power breakfasts, lunch seminars, and after-dinner professional events; and I admire everyone else who have already done it. Then I dream some more until I wake up to my reality, which, unfortunately, usually doesn't take very long because the bills on my desk are waiting to be paid.

I've tried my hand as an administrative assistant or secretary in more than a few different industries; and I've been a licensed real estate salesperson, mortgage loan officer, and life and health insurance agent. I've designed websites; created logos and marketing materials; and I've sold products through any number of multi-level-marketing channels. Currently, I'm a landlord and an hourly employee at a large private company in the aviation industry. I paint interior walls and decorate homes as a hobby. And oh, yeah: I've started blogging and writing my first novel.

So maybe what I am is a Renaissance Woman. I love all sorts of things, but I dislike their ownership of me. I can commit to an undertaking, but I don't want it to consume me. I will work my plan "until the wheels fall off," so I'm not asking for sympathy.

Yes -- I'm going to finish this first book, and probably write a few more. I'm going to take more art classes. I'm going to get my pilot's license one day soon. I'm going to finish my undergraduate degree, and probably get a few graduate degrees as well, because school is kind of fun for me. For now, I consider my ph.D. the one that life has awarded. I will always have my dreams and never give up on their fruition. And I have noticed, too, through all of this meandering through life, that the people I've come into contact with, the places I've been, the work that I've done, and the things I've experienced... have all melded together to create the person I am today, and she's pretty damn interesting.

March 7, 2009

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