It’s late evening on a blazing July day and after hours, days of yelling at myself to ‘just write!’ here I am, writing. I’ve always been a writer. I used to only call myself one in my head, instead unsurely saying ‘I mean, I write…. sometimes’ when a stranger making small talk or a teacher playing those get to know you games with the class asked what I did in my spare time.
But I recently read a quote by some historical figure that I’m sure I’m disgracing by forgetting their name and it goes something like: If you write, you’re a writer. And I’m taking that quote to heart. I bought a writer’s notebook and everything! I pour over my favorite writers’ blogs late into the night (this one, this one, and this one) searching for inspiration. Not too long ago my best friend encouraged me to revisit this part of my life and pursue it with the passion I once had that slowly dimmed somewhere along the way. And so now I’m pitching (!!!) and finding any time I can to write. You know, when I’m not thinking about doing it.
So there it is, kids. I’m going old school MySpace era (my parents never let me have one so I have to compensate somehow) and writing it all down here. Since I re-branded my other blog (which you should definitely read) to just style, I’ve been longing for a place to get all my thoughts out. Don’t get me wrong, I love writing about fashion. It’s in my blood. In fact, my freelance ~genre~ is fashion. But humans aren’t one dimensional and neither are our thoughts.
Sometimes I want a place to put up a think piece on the state of humanity (because Facebook isn’t always the best place for politics, no matter how easy it is to pick a fight with Aunt Sally) or to just vent/ rave about the latest Grey’s episode. (Mere can’t really be fired, can she??) A thousand people may read what I fervently type or maybe only three people will. The point is that I’m getting it out. Just call me Carrie B.
I couldn’t help but wonder…