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Friday, November 7, 2014

Long Term

So I recently left a 7 year job (and yes, I do count volunteering a job when it consumes your every waking hour and moderately influences almost all aspects of your life and outlook) to become a writer.

I say write because while there is the occasional new bit to bite down on (at least on this week alone), the majority of what I like do is playing with words.

I have always has a tricky relationship with the notion of "being a journalist". I have Journalism major in the handle of my degree but I went into and through those odd 3 years knowing I didn't necessarily wanted to stay in a newsroom.

I also this week went through a day long training to "maken der screenplay" because a film idea I had submitted was selected along with 19 others.

We 20 budding screenwriters have 3 months to throw together a piece of work that let people have some idea of what it is our heads when we tell the stories we submitted.

So this past week I have been overwhelmed with identity crises.

"Am I really a writer?" "What do I even want to write?" "WHAT IS JOB?"

I dropped radio program and video blog scripts for online news articles and magazine pieces.

"Is this what I want to do?"

All the questions and so few answered apart from "yes, for now."

How long now is I hope isn't just a few months, but I want to keep on keeping on in the mainstream media. My dreams of transforming the landscape need this experience.

And so far, I've heard relatively good things about my writing.

For someone who tells stories for fun and who used to have it as my bread and butter (and almost literally just bread and butter alongside cigarettes), having fulltime work to do that is exciting.

But why leave activism, my long time love? Aside from the Owl, trying to do the best I can were things that kept my heart pumping all the funny gooey feelings of "you're doing something right!"

I dont expect too much to change with the new job. I imagine it will just be a change to where things so and heres hoping those words I pull reluctantly out of my brain and shove them onto paper will go as far as they can.

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