Five years ago, nearly to the day, I wrote this in my journal:
I need to just give up – I’ll never be a writer. what ever made me think I could be one? HOW CAN YOU BE A WRITER IF YOU’RE NOT CREATIVE?????? HOW CAN YOU BE A WRITER IF YOU NEVER WRITE EXCEPT FOR BULLSHIT PARAGRAPHS THAT MEAN NOTHING??? HOW CAN YOU BE A WRITER IF WHAT YOU DO WRITE IS TOTAL AND COMPLETE SHIT????? HOW CAN YOU BE A WRITER IF YOU’RE AFRAID TO WRITE – SURE THAT WHATEVER YOU SAY WILL BE RIDICULED, REJECTED, HATED, and TERRIBLE?
I believed every word of this paragraph. Every. Freaking. Word.
And today, April 19 2011, I graduated from Trinity College Dublin with an M. Phil in Creative Writing.
Take that, my 26 year-old self.
I may never be as brilliant as my fellow Trinity alums. But damned if I’m not going to try.