Fiction

I feel almost frantic.

A small but very real part of me really does want to be an author. I almost feel frantic because if all my plans and dreams materialize, I'll be busier than I've ever been before for the next several years and will have no time to write meaningless fiction. Something about it seems very sad to me: I doubt that I'll make make my deadline for writing my masterpiece of insubstantial fiction.

The only real obstacle is that I'm really not well equipped for undertaking such an... ahem, undertaking. I have a hard time developing characters, developing plots, or developing a good rhythm in my writing. I rush when I should go slow, and dawdle over the things that need to be drawn out. And worst of all, I don't really want to spend the time to correct it. I get too impulsive and the ideas just explode out of my mind in an unintelligible mess.

I would really love to be an author, if only I knew how.