Whenever I am happy, content, and at peace with myself, I cannot seem to come up with an idea of what to blog about.
To be able to write effectively, I must be in the middle of a crisis, full of angst, and troubled. Weird, isn't it?
Now that I am considering a career in creative writing, I am wondering, would money be enough motivation to push me to write even though I am in bliss?
Will I be "in the mood" and be able to beat the deadlines like I used to when I was still a campus journalist?
When I was younger, I was idealistic. Well, I may still be up until now. However, the realities of life have bitten me a lot of times now, so maybe the idealistic side of me has lessened.
When one is idealistic, one does not seem to run out of fresh ideas, which are mostly absurd or extreme. My father even complained about one of the poems I made that he accidentally ran into. I was like describing my love for a person in comparison to the four seasons. My father said that it was impossible for me to talk about the four seasons when I have not experienced any of them. The Philippines only has two seasons: wet and dry. I told him that in writing, I am the queen of the world. With my mighty pen, it seemed that I have already been around the world. He laughed at me and told me that I had such a wild imagination.
I was flattered, considering that my father took notice of my compositions. I actually got my journalistic and poetic inclination from my father. My mom is more inclined to formal writing. My sister, Leda got the same talent. I am more into creative writing.
Now that I am exposed to essays--I edit hemorrhagic Konglish ones--I actually realized that I could also have made it in formal writing had I been given the chance.
As for the question that i's still hanging in my mind, maybe money would be enough motivation, but then again, maybe my perfectionist side would be a greater factor that would push me harder.
