Two weeks. Two weeks I was without internet.
Okay, maybe it was more like a week and a day.
Fine! Fine. Maybe just a week. But it felt like two weeks.
Anywho, I’ve had this blog written with no means of posting it, so without further ado, my eagerly anticipated (I jest) post:
Now, for those of you who happen upon my blog fairly frequently, you’ll know that I’m an aspiring middle-grade author who likes to entertain with stories, my little nuggets of so-called wisdom, and the occasional rant. I call my blog “This Stage of Life” because it’s always applicable no matter what stage of life I’m in. Conveniently, to me, it will always be “this” stage. And so it will never be outdated…well, unless I die, but we won’t go there.
In my current stage, I’m still getting the taste of the real world, and doing my best to thrive in forty-hour work weeks while still writing my MG book and entering contests here and there. It’s a tough life, but a beautiful one, trying to balance time between fulfilling my own dreams and spending time with my loved ones, all while paying the bills. It can easily become overwhelming.
I received a bit of advice recently, which in my opinion is useful to people in similar situations. “Find someone to admire, someone who has the life you want, and emulate their life.”
I paraphrased, but you get the idea. Not a particularly pretty quote, but extremely valuable nonetheless.
It made me realize that although there are plenty of people I admire, I’ve never really thought about stepping into their shoes, and going where they’ve gone. By actively pursuing the life you want to have and taking wisdom from those who have gone before you, you may cut the journey to your destination in half.
For example, I love the book and movie Coraline. Neil Gaiman is just a wonderful, wonderful person. I love that his book makes you uncomfortable. I mean, I’m twenty-three and the book freaked me out! The type of stories I want to tell fall in line with his. I am going to look at his life. I’m going to see what worked and what didn’t, because what worked for him, may work for me too.
Think of it like a buffet. Take what you want, leave the rest. That’s the beauty of it, because the holes left on your plate, where you didn’t put your green vegetables, are filled with you. And at the end of the day, that’s who’s writing your book.