JUST DID IT . . .

I am proud of me . . . I did it . . .


A few weeks ago . . . No, wait. Like ten days ago, I got an email notification of a contest for writers, with the deadline of August 31. I glanced through it, and thought, 'oh I wish I had more time . . . this would have been fun to try', and didn't delete it, but had no intention of trying to write something to submit in less than two weeks.


I knew the contest was legitimate, because it is one that one of my professors told me about and encouraged me to enter a few years ago. Every three years it is open to writers and poets in California. I entered it (both categories) three years ago, which is undoubtedly where they got my email address, but without more time to prepare, there is no way I could prepare something in time.


I promptly forgot about it until a few nights later I was looking through my hotmail account and deleting old messages because I rarely do, and noticed that I had at some point in time made a folder in my inbox called 'writing'. Not remembering it, and curious I clicked on it, and found only ONE item inside . . . an email about that same contest, sent back in late May of this year.


I was stunned. I had NO recollection of ever hearing ANYTHING about it before the email reminder in mid August, and yet not only had I received one, I had noticed it enough to make a folder JUST for it . . . and saved it, even though I couldn't remember doing any of that.


Late May was at the worst of Spring semester, with me CERTAIN I was failing my Algebra class and frantically busy writing a research paper and memorizing formulas and science facts for my finals which were rapidly approaching. Shortly after that, some really sad things took place that shoved everything else to the back corners of my mind, and I COMPLETELY forgot.


Apparently, though, I got the notification with MONTHS to prepare and I must have intended to try to write something, because I saved the email (in a special folder!) . . . and promptly forgot about it . . .


Coming across that original notification did something to me . . . It is hard to describe, but it felt like this HUGE, pyschic 'nudge' . . . inspiration? a reminder of what I love to do in the midst of the regular chaos of life? the allure of an old, cherished dream?


I looked at how much time I had and thought . . . for whatever reason, it feels important on a level I don't even understand to enter this contest . . . I don't have time to write anything new (short stories are difficult to write -- let alone edit and revise and polish in so short a time) but perhaps I can look through old things I have already written and find something I can tweak or polish to submit.


That worked for a couple of days, but in looking through and rereading things I had written and saved . . . nothing jumped out and grabbed me. I mean I liked the things I had written, but it felt like 'well those were me THEN . . . not me NOW' . . . so I decided that if nothing else, I would submit something old, just for the practice and to act on what felt like a prompting . . . but that would be my default strategy. I would TRY to write something new, even though time was SO short . . .


For at least a WEEK . . . I struggled and started story after story . . . jotted down ideas . . . phrases . . . plot summaries . . . tried SO hard to just write SOMETHING. ANYTHING. And absolutely nothing would come . . . Talk about the dry heaves of creativity. I felt VERY uncreative . . . and it is HARD to write . . . or draw . . . or sew . . . or do anything creative when you just don't FEEL it . . . Maybe others can do it, but I cannot, which is one of the reasons that advertising art has NEVER appealed to me as a career field.


Creativity on demand simply doesn't work for me . . .


But with some encouragement (and concrete suggestions for weeding out distractions) and definitely under the gun with the contest deadline LOOMING . . . I just sat down late one night and WROTE . . . I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, or at least what I hoped to accomplish (I wanted to write about death in a way that wasn't sentimental . . . maudlin . . . creepy . . . horrific . . . or goth . . . more, simply as a rite of passage). I know that sounds like a weird goal, but I have had a few friends dealing with life or death issues in this past year, and I wanted to try to do that . . .


I did it . . .


I wrote something . . . and not only did I write it, I actually like what I wrote . . .


Oh, I have no expectations about winning the contest . . . but I am more pleased than I can express that EVEN when I had almost NO time . . . EVEN when I was feeling pressured and desperate . . . EVEN when I was not feeling even the TEENSIEST bit creative . . . I could write something that holds together as a short story AND something that I actually, genuinely like . . .


As soon as I figure out a title for it, I will print out four copies . . . fill out the paperwork . . . and mail it in . . . not to WIN the contest . . . but VERY pleased with myself for even trying . . .


YAY . . . go ME!!! =o)