I’ve always been sort of a word nerd. An English enthusiast, if you will. A punctuation slut. I really should have gone to school for journalism, but I didn’t (idiot). Instead I went for business, lost interest after a year and never finished. Then I went back for photography and didn’t finish that either. I was easily distracted by silly things, like a string of dead-end jobs and being a single mom and stuff (okay so the mom thing is a pretty legitimate distraction). I knew I’d go crazy if I didn’t get out of the rut - but what to do? I began looking for inspiration, and after reading a wonderfully convincing book called The Well-Fed Writer, I decided I could totally make a living as a freelance writer with no degree and no experience! It was a brilliant plan! I just needed a new scene to foster this daring enterprise. I chose Fort Collins, Colorado for its artsy, big-small-town vibe and its excellent school system. My daughter and I headed out West like so many great adventurers before us – sans the covered wagon and dusty pioneer bonnets, of course. I didn’t know a soul in Colorado, so I had no social distractions. I hit the pavement hard trying to drum up business. I set up a website and humbly distributed my little brochures to every small business in town (I was trying to be a copywriter, which is someone who writes stuff for people or businesses who don’t know how to write stuff on their own). But apparently, the height of a national economic crisis is NOT the time to launch a career offering services that most business owners consider a luxury expense. I also had no references and no portfolio, save for a few freebie jobs I’d done for friends back home. Needless to say, I got absolutely no bites. A month into this brilliant venture, I was broke and feeling pretty crappy about myself, and I missed my friends and family like crazy. I realized I’d never make it out here if I didn’t generate a support system to help me through being poor and, you know, a professional failure. I needed friends. So I hired a sitter one night and headed downtown determined to make at least one viable friend. And in a grossly cliche, fairy tale twist, I met my husband that night. Seriously. (It’s actually a pretty cute little anecdote – stay tuned for the post!) Long story short, we fell madly in love and never looked back. And, as it often happens, my budding (okay, struggling) career gradually faded into the background in favor of wedded bliss and baby-having and my hubby becoming a partner in his dad’s business. And don’t get me wrong – I LOVE my life. Every day is truly a blessing. I have made wonderful friends out here, my kids are healthy and happy and my in-laws are amazing. But, being human, I am hardwired to always wonder “what if?” What if I had kept at it – could I have made the writing thing work? Will I always feel this nagging pang of regret for the creative quest I so quickly abandoned? It’s the classic housewife conundrum, and it’s been weighing rather heavily on me lately.
Then, about a week ago, I saw this on Pinterest (I freaking LOVE Pinterest):
What?! You mean other people have tried and failed, too, and you're supposed to try again? Groundbreaking! Inspirational! It's a big kick in the ass, really - a call to action. So I have decided to take up the challenge – a story every day, in the form of this blog. It might suck; maybe no one will read it. Maybe I’ll never really be a writer. All I know is
it certainly can’t hurt to try.
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1. my hometown 2. colorado! 3. annie's first taste of snow 4. the biz that never was 5. new love 6. nuptials 7. my groom and our flower girl 8. a sunday drive 9. about five months along with miss estie 10. about eight months 11. annie and estie, 11/23/11 12. estie, six days old 13. we three queens 14. c'est moi!
enjoy the blog, kids.
P.S. - Please bear with me, this is my first blog and I am technologically retarded.
Kay, thanks!
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