Dreams: ... and Regained

Writing.

It has been said that it is my outlet, my baby, the cradle in which I rock.
It's been said to be my talent. One I dont usually show. The passion that doesnt see when the light shines.

My mother. My father. My grandparents. My teachers. My friends. ALL agree: writing is my road to riches. It is what has kept me sane throughout the past 15 years...

I guess you could say it started with Ms Lombardi(I really wish I could find this lady. She was an awesome teacher and Im so grateful for having had her. Without her, Id definitely wouldnt be where I am today. Thank you so much Gina!!!) She had us write in her class everyday. Every morning there would be a journal entry which we had to elaborate on in the afternoon. She would read and correct these. This caucasian woman loved every one of us little kids. I was one of her favorite students. She helped me so much with grammar, pronunciation, enunciation, spelling. She made the dictionary my best friend. I was a 6 year old with a collegiate vocabulary. Thanks to her. My first story, my first "published" book was in her class. It was about my birthday. And of course by publish I mean self-publish. She couldnt really publish books on a 1st grade teacher's 1996 salary. I received my first A from her. (and my first F but thats another story for another time!) She later helped me with my writing throughout the rest of my elementary school career. One of the plays/skits I had performed in while attending the school, I co-wrote with her help. I then lost touch with her during my time @ Schuyler. In Schuyler, I continued writing and being praised for it. Nothing I really considered fabulous but I was still praised for it. People loved my writing and found it entertaining. I mostly kept notebooks by the time I graduated and rarely showed them to anyone. I believe I threw out most of these stories by now. Maybe kept a few notebooks laying around but nothing I'd consider worth reading. (I am my biggest critic. Sue me! Wait... my pockets are still linty. LOL) Anyway, I finally graduated Schuyler and attended Loughlin(that pesky catholic school I dont regret going to =)

In Loughlin, I had been blessed in having a few awesome English teachers. My freshmen year, I won a 1st place award along with a couple other people, for a story contest held by the PAL league in NYC, called "Stories my grandparents told me." Great story. I liked it but I'm biased because I love hearing my grandfather speak. The man has a talent for storytelling, probably where I get it from. (Except I feel more @ ease by writing than speaking. Another story for another time... Geez I have a lot of stories to catch you guys up on huh?)

This was the first time I would see any of my work published or even complimented outside of a school setting. But something happened in the next few years. My sophomore year I had a teacher who shouldnt have been a teacher. I was a badass and made his life miserable for it. He also praised me for my writing. However, he always made me feel inferior towards my grammar WHICH I ADMIT IS HORRIBLE. My grammar sucks. I admit it. But as a teacher, I shouldnt have been made to feel inferior if anything I should have been helped. I eventually made it to my junior year. I joined xanga by now and was constantly writing on websites. Entering contests and forums I never followed up on. I will never know if I won any of these contests. At the end of my junior year, we were to try out for AP English where we would submit writing pieces to the chairperson and see whether or not we'd get in. Yeah... I didnt make that. The chairperson never fully explained herself but basically said I wasnt good enough for the class. I was stunned and upset. This was coming from a teacher I genuinely loved who had seen my writing for the past year. I wanted to be in the AP English class. I deserved it! I worked my ass off to do so. She was the first person to reject my writing. Of course, we werent really talking about content but instead talking about essays and research. I felt she was calling me out on my theory behind essays. Essays are supposed to show your ability to bullshit. I felt that inferiority once again and as the year wasnt the best of times and progressed ... my hobby of writing quickly faded into the background just like my dream of becoming an actress. I never explicitly had thought of myself as a published author but I always thought Id make it in some kind of field where writing was a given. I quickly found myself reading more(as it is also my hobby) and writing less. Id involve my imagination deep into stories and decided to improve on myself. I became much more introverted than anyone could ever expect from me. My writing became personal and for my eyes only. No longer praised and no longer the thing that maintained my happiness. Senior year came and went. Graduation, prom, everything that comes with senior year came and went. my writing still was just a faint entity in my life, backseat to my "priorities."

I got to college. New Rochelle found me with a new attitude. I wanted to do something new. I wanted a new atmosphere. I loved it while I was there! My writing class was awesome and I saw myself getting praised again. We were reviewed and critiqued by peers and I found myself loving my writing once again. Negative things that happened during my time there were erased once they were written down. I found my outlet once again.

I transferred to John Jay and left New Roc behind. I started thinking about what I really wanted in my life, how I let some dreams die and I knew writing was something that was not leaving me for dead. But what did I want from this? I wanted to be published. I didnt care about being a full time author. BUT I WANT TO GET PUBLISHED!

My heart became set on it. It had been something I loved since I was 5, for as long as I could write, it has been my dream, I just never recognized it as one. I lost hope in most of my dreams, Im never going to be an actress much less a singer, I might still have a career in the legal system but it might not be with adolescents. If Im going to keep getting what I want and dont want half-assed, I might as well go for the gold. But fear might just stop me short of having my dreams properly pursued.

Fear that Im rejected. Fear that my work is negatively received. Fear that one day my books wont be sold in Barnes and Noble, BooksAmillion or Borders. Maybe one day Ill follow this dream without this fear. Without feeling pessimistic and remain positive through the trials. I know the road to being a published author is rough. (As if anything in life is easy...) I read it all the time from fellow bloggers here on blogspot and other areas.

Im in my junior year now of college, I still dont know what to do with my life but I do know one thing, if my pieces of writing could be accessed by a whole world and not ridiculed, Ill be happy.

To end this, I just want to say... I wont quit. I wont quit writing. I cant and I wont. Because this is my drug, and writing is my addiction, and because its the one thing that belongs to me that cant be taken away, I wont stop writing. Despite the fear, despite the pessimism, I will not give up on this dream. If I give up on this, and I dont have any dreams left... what will my life be worth? Not to you, but to me? Ive had my trials and tribulations and I refuse to let this one go...

As soon as you start to pursue a dream, your life wakes up and everything has meaning. -Barbara Sher
Consult not your fears but your hopes and your dreams. Think not about your frustrations, but about your unfulfilled potential. Concern yourself not with what you tried and failed in, but with what it is still possible for you to do.-Pope John XXIII
Desire awakens only those things that are thought possible.- Rene Descartes
Don't let today's disappointments cast a shadow on tomorrow's dreams.- Unknown Author

Please give me some quotes Ill add them on! Thanks.

This blog was inspired by a friend. Thank you. =)