Writing
I started this blog five years ago in an attempt to resurrect my writing skills. I thought making myself write, first by sharing good stories and then just discussing thoughts and feelings close to my heart, would help prepare me to return to a writing career in a few years. However, I have been inconsistent and soon ran out of good stories. My readership is between 10 and 20 people per post and I have yet to have anyone feel that what I said was worthy to be shared on social media.
When I was in second grade, my teacher was really into having us write and publish our own stories. I was able to read mine on the news and I remember feeling pretty special. Then in fourth grade I got a perfect score on a state writing test. In high school I was friends with a girl who worked on the school newspaper and she got me involved my sophomore year. I began writing articles about music competitions and by senior year, I was editor-in-chief, writing editorials criticizing the principal for being more concerned about pleasing parents than maintaining the high standards of the National Honors Society. It was probably the most confident I have ever felt in my writing abilities.
Then I went to college and decided to be a journalist. I took international communications, ethics, statistics, research methods, communications law and opinion writing. I took news writing and had to turn in three articles a week to our college newspaper. I loved the thrill of being in the news room, working the art desk and writing about ballet, orchestra concerts, new movies coming out and local musical groups. It was the most at home I've ever felt in my career choice. Then I took advanced writing and got to do a lengthy piece on humor in our church culture. I interviewed three local members of the Church who were humor columnists for large news organizations. Having earned very good grades in all of these classes, I assumed I was a good writer and ready for a career in news writing.
Then I served a mission and when I came back to campus, the only degree requirement I had left was to do an internship. Problem was I had been out of the country for 18 months and nobody on campus knew me. I had a very difficult time finding an appropriate internship but finally landed one at a very local magazine. It was brand new and I really struggled to find my place there. Just when I thought I had found it, I ended up getting fired. The owner had already fired the editor-in-chief and felt that because I was his hire, I had to go too. It was so deflating and only contributed to my feelings that I was really just faking it anyway. I didn't know if I was actually good at writing or capable of good ideas for articles or if I remembered anything I had learned while on campus. It was a crushing time for me and a serious blow to any shred of confidence I had left in myself.
I eventually got a job doing promotion fulfillment at a worthless company that I couldn't stand and then was blessed to get a job at BYU in the continuing education department. I was really good at both of those jobs and got super bored (although I loved working at BYU) and when Josh graduated and we could move on, I was grateful. We got to California and I interviewed with the local newspaper for a position. They didn't have anything open on the lifestyles desk though and when they asked me if I would be able to cover the story if someone got hit by the train, I knew the answer was no. I ended up free-lancing for them and writing some fun articles about local business owners and awesome high school students. It wasn't steady work but my editor seemed happy so I told myself I was a good enough reporter and writer that she kept asking for me to help out.
Then a year later we moved to Ohio and after struggling with infertility and trying to focus on getting pregnant, I decided to do something more flexible and substitute teach for the year we were there. Then I ended up pregnant and having our first baby there. I didn't write a single thing after she was born, except in my journal, until five years ago when I decided to give this blog a try. It was sparked by my husband asking what really makes me happy and what do I want to spend my time doing. I felt that I should try to re-establish some sort of confidence that I was actually a good writer and could maybe make it in the newspaper or magazine world if given the chance. I know I'm not confident enough to go seek out that chance though so I don't ever see this happening. I don't think I will ever work as a reporter again and while 17-year-old me is kind of sad about that, I don't know that 38-year-old me is.
After giving the last 10 years of my life to motherhood, I think I would need a job where I can know if I'm doing well or not. Writing is so subjective and I've always had to rely on a test or a grade or a teacher to tell me if I'm good or not. Motherhood is somewhat similar because you have to rely on a good friend or spouse or your child's good behavior to let you know if you're doing an okay job or not and I'm kind of tired of it. If I ever decide to work outside my home again, I think I'm going to need something where it will be obvious that I am amazing at it and something that I feel passionate about doing. I don't really know what that is right now or what I'm really qualified to do at this point. I just don't think writing is it anymore for me. I can't even write what I honestly think of books when I review them on goodreads.com because I'm afraid other people will totally disagree or pick apart my reasons or think them unsupported. I don't remember any grammar or news writing style rules or even read newspapers anymore.
The other main issue is priority. My family and their needs will always come first in my life, which is why I write so inconsistently. If I ever feel the need to get a job again, I will have to think long and hard about what that means for this reporter who never actually got to be a real reporter. But I do know that this blog isn't accomplishing what I hoped it would so I probably won't be writing on here much anymore. Thanks for reading and taking this journey with me, even though we haven't gotten to where I had hoped to be.
When I was in second grade, my teacher was really into having us write and publish our own stories. I was able to read mine on the news and I remember feeling pretty special. Then in fourth grade I got a perfect score on a state writing test. In high school I was friends with a girl who worked on the school newspaper and she got me involved my sophomore year. I began writing articles about music competitions and by senior year, I was editor-in-chief, writing editorials criticizing the principal for being more concerned about pleasing parents than maintaining the high standards of the National Honors Society. It was probably the most confident I have ever felt in my writing abilities.
Then I went to college and decided to be a journalist. I took international communications, ethics, statistics, research methods, communications law and opinion writing. I took news writing and had to turn in three articles a week to our college newspaper. I loved the thrill of being in the news room, working the art desk and writing about ballet, orchestra concerts, new movies coming out and local musical groups. It was the most at home I've ever felt in my career choice. Then I took advanced writing and got to do a lengthy piece on humor in our church culture. I interviewed three local members of the Church who were humor columnists for large news organizations. Having earned very good grades in all of these classes, I assumed I was a good writer and ready for a career in news writing.
Then I served a mission and when I came back to campus, the only degree requirement I had left was to do an internship. Problem was I had been out of the country for 18 months and nobody on campus knew me. I had a very difficult time finding an appropriate internship but finally landed one at a very local magazine. It was brand new and I really struggled to find my place there. Just when I thought I had found it, I ended up getting fired. The owner had already fired the editor-in-chief and felt that because I was his hire, I had to go too. It was so deflating and only contributed to my feelings that I was really just faking it anyway. I didn't know if I was actually good at writing or capable of good ideas for articles or if I remembered anything I had learned while on campus. It was a crushing time for me and a serious blow to any shred of confidence I had left in myself.
I eventually got a job doing promotion fulfillment at a worthless company that I couldn't stand and then was blessed to get a job at BYU in the continuing education department. I was really good at both of those jobs and got super bored (although I loved working at BYU) and when Josh graduated and we could move on, I was grateful. We got to California and I interviewed with the local newspaper for a position. They didn't have anything open on the lifestyles desk though and when they asked me if I would be able to cover the story if someone got hit by the train, I knew the answer was no. I ended up free-lancing for them and writing some fun articles about local business owners and awesome high school students. It wasn't steady work but my editor seemed happy so I told myself I was a good enough reporter and writer that she kept asking for me to help out.
Then a year later we moved to Ohio and after struggling with infertility and trying to focus on getting pregnant, I decided to do something more flexible and substitute teach for the year we were there. Then I ended up pregnant and having our first baby there. I didn't write a single thing after she was born, except in my journal, until five years ago when I decided to give this blog a try. It was sparked by my husband asking what really makes me happy and what do I want to spend my time doing. I felt that I should try to re-establish some sort of confidence that I was actually a good writer and could maybe make it in the newspaper or magazine world if given the chance. I know I'm not confident enough to go seek out that chance though so I don't ever see this happening. I don't think I will ever work as a reporter again and while 17-year-old me is kind of sad about that, I don't know that 38-year-old me is.
After giving the last 10 years of my life to motherhood, I think I would need a job where I can know if I'm doing well or not. Writing is so subjective and I've always had to rely on a test or a grade or a teacher to tell me if I'm good or not. Motherhood is somewhat similar because you have to rely on a good friend or spouse or your child's good behavior to let you know if you're doing an okay job or not and I'm kind of tired of it. If I ever decide to work outside my home again, I think I'm going to need something where it will be obvious that I am amazing at it and something that I feel passionate about doing. I don't really know what that is right now or what I'm really qualified to do at this point. I just don't think writing is it anymore for me. I can't even write what I honestly think of books when I review them on goodreads.com because I'm afraid other people will totally disagree or pick apart my reasons or think them unsupported. I don't remember any grammar or news writing style rules or even read newspapers anymore.
The other main issue is priority. My family and their needs will always come first in my life, which is why I write so inconsistently. If I ever feel the need to get a job again, I will have to think long and hard about what that means for this reporter who never actually got to be a real reporter. But I do know that this blog isn't accomplishing what I hoped it would so I probably won't be writing on here much anymore. Thanks for reading and taking this journey with me, even though we haven't gotten to where I had hoped to be.
I'm sorry that writing your blog didn't get you to where you wanted to be. I've enjoyed reading it! You are so smart and talented in many ways. I am sure you find something that brings you joy!
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