It's funny and odd when you remember things about yourself that you forgot. For instance, a few months ago I remembered that when I was in my late middle school and early high school years I imagined that I would be a writer of novels.
I had totally forgotten about this dream of mine. It got inadvertently buried under old hockey skates, college drunken late nights, expectations of financial independence and the need to have a career "right now."
Back then, I loved writing fiction, adventure and maybe even sci-fi. Years passed. After I became an ICU nurse and saw a few real life horrors, I became obsessed only with non-fiction literary works because I was not convinced that any fictional stories could ever compare to the real-life tragedy that I have seen. So for years, I refused to read any fiction. I would only read memoirs and autobiographies/biographies (I am still a sucker for a juicy memoir) and very occasionally something about history.
And maybe it was those years that forced the dream even further between the couch cushions, underneath a layer of crumbs and forgotten toy cars. But eventually, I could not get my hands on enough intriguing non-fiction and I had no choice but to turn to some good old fashioned fiction for entertainment. And I fell in love with fiction again.
Which brings me to today. I have an idea. Probably not a new idea. But a possible plan to reach a goal, a dream I once had. No, I don't plan on writing and publishing a book. But I do plan to create a story. Gears are turning. Inspiration is near.
“If you play it safe in life, you've decided that you don't want to grow anymore.”
― Shirley M Hufstedler