I just discovered that I am an INFP personality type. I was quite pleased (and not surprised) when I read that INFPs like myself are “drawn to all sorts of creative endeavors—poetry, music, drama, fiction writing, the fine arts, and the like.” You don’t say?
On another note, have you ever considered assigning your various fictional characters with a Myers-Briggs personality type? It might help you flesh out your characters and make them more believable!
Today my older cousin had a baby. What a contribution to the world – a brand new human being, a soul, a real live person. Nothing I could ever write – no matter how brilliant – could compete with that kind of pure, sacred creation.
Story ideas from long ago come back like memories – colors, moods, landmarks, images that have not surfaced for years. I remember that river, that tower, that car trip and that old hotel. It feels like I’ve lived these ‘memories’; I miss those places, those people. Writers really do live multiple lives, even if they don’t realize it until later.
My mom suggested I go running for exercise. I told her it was impossible, that I can’t run.
‘Why not?’ she demanded.
My response: ‘Because I have atrophied in front of my laptop in an attempt to write a best-seller.’
There is something haunting in this tragic story. Perhaps presumptuously, I can’t help but see myself in this. The concept of dying young and being remembered forever is horrible and romantic all at once, and I suppose every artist must face that twistedly alluring image that would put them in the ranks of John Lennon, Marilyn Monroe, and now Marina Keegan. But then I wonder – if my untimely end were to come all of a sudden – would I have as much to show for it?
Today I was trying to come up with my character cast. I decided to try putting people in my own life into this alternate universe. As soon as you break down a friend or family member into a basic character sketch, you realize your life is actually full of archetypes. Fascinating.
I remember meeting a woman who was an author by trade. She had been contracted by a publishing company to write three books in two years. They were paying for her to stay in Italy with her husband while she completed the manuscripts. While I hold fast to the idea that writing should be for personal fulfillment and self-expression, I would not mind those kinds of perks.
One year ago I started this blog. To be completely honest, I haven’t made nearly as much writing progress as I had hoped. But I did find out that at least 205 people understood. Thanks everyone, for an amazing year. Here’s hoping that next year will be even better!