The Work Part of Dreams

 Does anyone really know what they want to be when they grow up?

Because I still don't know what I want to be.

I should probably rephrase that. I have a fair idea of what I want to be, but really have no idea how to make that happen. When I was growing up I always had a pocket answer when some grown-up asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Sometimes lawyer, sometimes politician. I never could wrap my head around picking one thing to do for the rest of my life, except for one thing.

For a while, I was sure I was going to be a nurse. I find the human body fascinating and it's kind of a family profession. Many of my aunts are nurses. Then when the time came to go to school, I decided that I didn't want to be in student loan hell for the rest of my life. Now I look back and realize that I just should have done it. And maybe someday I still will. 

As soon as I hit school I found something that I loved to do. I loved and still love to write. Anything I submitted in school usually resulted in a fairly good grade, and eventually two plays that I wrote wound up being performed at a high school drama festival. I started to think that maybe I could be a writer, professionally. 

Then the imposter syndrome kicked in. Imposter syndrome is just another treat that your brain gives you. It makes you doubt your abilities. It makes you feel like a fraud. It seems to happen more in women than in men. Which makes sense. Men are raised by a society that tells them they can and will do anything. Women, no matter how strong their mothers are, or how much support they have, always get whispers of "who does she think she is" whenever we start to feel good about something we did. 

For the first time in a long time, I have had the chance to focus on creating something. Somedays I really make progress. Other days there is nothing there. There is just so much pressure. Mostly placed on me by me. 

Still, I try to write every day and I am making some progress.  But even when I finish writing what I am working on, what happens next? Will I have the guts to try and find a publisher? Or an agent? Will I even have the guts to submit what I wrote, and can I withstand all the rejection letters? For the first time since I decided I wanted to be a writer, I am not bogged down by trying to find the time to write. But now comes the actual work of it. 

I guess that is the next hurdle to climb over. And I guess some research is in order. I think that the universe has plans for all of us, but that our choices and the steps we take can change those plans. I just hope that I am making the right choices. 

If you have had a dream for yourself, make it happen. What's the worse that could happen?

Oh right, crushing failure. I'll still give it a shot. This stubborn streak I inherited has to be worth something. 



There are many songs about writing. Mostly slow and depressing. But that really isn't my thing. So I went with another obvious choice. Paperback Writer was released by The Beatles in 1966. Written mostly by Paul McCartney but attributed to the Lennon/McCartney team it was the last new song to be featured on their last tour that same year. 

McCartney wrote the song after his Aunt Lil challenged him to write something that wasn't about love. After the challenge was issued at a concert of theirs, McCartney looked around the room and spotted Ringo Starr reading a paperback novel. 

The framework of the song was put together on the hour-long drive between McCartney's house in London and Lennon's house in Surrey. So all that was left to do was polish it up. 

Fun fact, not only were The Monkees based on The Beatles but their first single (Last Train to Clarksville) was based on Paperback Writer.

Time for window shopping. 

500 Writing Prompts








In My Life by Lennon and McCartney













Harry Potter Bag
















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