“I’d rather you write.” Those were words my husband said to me last night. The conversation didn’t even start off talking about my writing. It started off talking about me wanting to work for my parents to relieve a little of their burden. I’d love to be able to work for them part-time while I write. We aren’t financially set up for that kind of career move, but that could be my 5-10 year goal.
He said those words out of the blue last night. I feel like they may be an echo of something he said years ago when I was talking of wanting to be a photographer. I enjoy taking pictures. I enjoy the composition and editing. I thought maybe one day of become a photo journalist. I think I’d get bored being a studio photographer. Back then he said he didn’t see me as a “real photographer”. It hurt my feelings at the time, but I also understood what he meant. I didn’t take my camera everywhere I went. If I did take my camera I didn’t always use it.
Writing has been a constant in my life and I think even back then he told me that about photography that he thinks I should give it a go as an author instead. Last night he said that the way I talk about writing, he’s never heard me talk about photography in that way. He may not have realized it, but lately I haven’t mentioned being a photographer and I also haven’t been taking my camera as many places. It’s the truth though. I don’t feel toward anything the way I feel toward writing. It’s a part of me. It’s a part of my soul.
I have stacks and stacks of journals. I have stacks of poems and even a few books. I can find something to write about even when I think I have nothing. Once I get the tiniest spark of an idea going, I could write for hours. I hate only being able to write, at most, 30-45 minutes a day. I want to sit for 8 hours straight and write like I did in highschool.
Even though I want more, those 30-45 minutes are a haven for me. They give me a feeling of accomplishment. I feel like I’m working toward my ultimate goal of becoming a writer. Sometimes those minutes go too fast and I can’t finish my thought (aka post), but I just make sure to come back the next day or even later the same day and finish it. I love hearing other authors talk about their writing. I love reading their stories. I love the world of writing.
I’d rather I write. I’m so glad I have my husband’s full support.