I like that I can write. I like that my writing never fails me. I love that I can keep tweaking what I’ve written until it’s perfect and says precisely what I intend to say — yet I can publish it with all plenty of imperfections and it will still be understandable. Writing keeps me alert. Focused.
It keeps me paying attention to little things which become big enough to become blogs or something else. Mostly blogs.
Writing has never failed me professionally or personally.
From a very young age, I could write better than anything else I did. I almost got there with photography. But photography was, even in the 1960s, a struggle. Everyone who owned a Brownie camera was sure they had the seeds of greatness in that little plastic box, so unless I wanted to go into commercial photography, the stuff I liked doing — artistic stuff — was right up there with becoming a concert pianist. Potentially do-able, but highly unlikely.
I never regretted writing for a living. It always felt like I was in the right place, even when I was a beginner. Words were my safe spot. I got better with time and practice, but even my early efforts were good. I don’t feel I missed out because I didn’t become an artist or musician. I would have been a mediocre artist and an even more mediocre musician, but I was always a good writer. Sometimes, a very good writer and never a bad writer. Writing was just there for me. I never had to search for it and I don’t think I’ve ever had writer’s block.
I can’t imagine what I would do if I couldn’t write so I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing. As long as I write, I’m in the right place.