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I'm feeling sort-of melancholy this morning. I don't know if it's from writing down all that stuff yesterday, or if it's the rain and the cold, or if it's a hormonal thing, or any number of other possibilities. I guess the cause doesn't matter--the end result is the same.
I was riding home on the bus yesterday, after waiting in the rain for 25 minutes with no umbrella, and thinking about my own writing history. My senior year of high school, we had to write a research paper in my English class. I chose to compare and contrast the styles of myths, fables and fairy tales. It was a fun paper to write. I got an A-. My teacher, after he'd commented on the paper itself, wrote the following comment on my cover sheet: "Having said that, let me also say what a pleasure it's been having you in my class this year, however frustrating an experience it may have been. Frustrating because I watched possibly the best English student in the senior class fritter away her talent. Talent, without diligence and discipline, goes a very short way. Remember that as you move on from here. What kept me from killing you? The fact that you are a classy young lady who will go far, perhaps as a writer. I wouldn't want to deprive the world of the Jennifer W experience. Good luck and keep in touch, MJM." I graduated 12 years ago, and still remember his note, word-for-word. Years later, my newswriting professor at Northeastern wrote in the margin of an assignment, "Jennifer, you will be as good as you want to be. No bullshit." So what did I do with all that writing talent? I'm a secretary for the administrative director in the Radiology department of a big hospital. Not a lot of writing opportunity there.
I'd like to tell you that I've made up for it in my spare time with all the free writing I do there. That would be a lie, though. Instead, I spend my free time watching the nightly WB lineup and leafing through the 50 catalogs I get in the mail each day.
No wonder I'm feeling melancholy today. This is what yesterday reminded me of.
On the good side, I've started writing this journal. And I got a little bit of good feedback from another Diaryland writer. Positive words like that are like a drug. I read them and then started typing this entry. And I promise I'll post part 2 today. Perhaps once I get it all out of my head and onto the screen, we'll all rest a little easier.
We now return to our regularly scheduled program.
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