This morning I made a major life decision. Maybe not so major to you, but very much so to me. I decided instead of following my plan for the last three years and getting my Masters in English Lit, I'm going to get my Masters in FIne Arts in Creative Writing. This is huge, because it's about not settling for the middling road I want my life to be and following the dreams of what my future could be.
We've all seen that movie about the sturggling writer who teaches on the side. While I want to teach eventually, this is of no doubt, there's nothing stopping me from going after my dreams of what I really want to do, which is not write about writing, but actually write. All my heroes did it so why can't I.
The only difference in my head between a Masters in English Lit and a Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing is talent and about a years worth of furious writing to build up a portfolio. While a year ago I would have seen this as some sort of procrastination, today I see it as following a dream. So I have about a year. A year in which I intend to write a story a week and work on the novel that I've restarted three times in the last 2 months. A year to prove to myself that the words in my head can be put together confidently and to tell a story for entertainment and for my own cerebral gratification.
And I look at this not as procrastiation but following what I want to do, grabbing the dream and going with it. There's nothing holding me back, right. I'm in the perfect place to do this, right here, right now.
No fear.
Not anymore.
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