Six o'clock already? I was JUST in the middle of a dream...

(You need to skip to 0:22 to get to the actual song)

So here it is. Monday. The day of shared dread, the poor victim of our beginning of the week stress, and obviously part of the title of a song by a pretty awesome girl band of the 80's... Worthy of a Gilmore Girls cameo. As I mentioned in my last post (it's online, so it MUST be true) I'm now going to start posting EVERY Monday, and some days in between. So here it is. Why am I having so much trouble coming up with something to write about? Oh yeah- because there's no room left in my brain! Why? Howabout we take a look at my upcoming school schedule and see?

World Epic Lit
American History
Geometry
Micro Economics
World Religions
aaaand
French 2.

I'm exhausted just reading that list. But I'm also reminded why I do it all, why I've loaded myself with so many classes- it's because of a dream. Or, well, dreams.

I distinctly remember (and my friend Abbey will back me up on this) that as a 9-10-11yr old, I wanted three things in my life. I wanted to go to Hawaii, visit American Girl Place, and get my OWN laptop. Yes, I wanted a laptop as a nine year old. What can I say? I am happy to report that I have been to American Girl place, (I went during a visit to Chicago. It was amazing) and I have my own laptop. It only took me 8 years, but here I am. And the Hawaii thing? I might like to visit, but I really have no strong desires to go anymore. If I could choose one place to visit, it would either be somewhere in Europe, (probaby Paris or London) Seattle, or New York. Can you tell that I love cities?

When I was 13, I remember sitting on a blanket during an easter egg hunt (it was for the younger kids. I always liked hunting easter eggs) and someone suggested that I go into journalism. I had always said that I wanted a career as a writer, whatever I could get. Age 13 to... oh, 15 I was GOING to be a journalist. Ideally someone who worked for BBC, so I would have to travel back and forth from London (where I would live most of the time) to New York (only temporary, of course) all the time. But dreams change.

Like I no longer want to go to Hawaii, I don’t really want to be a journalist. Sure, it would be neat, but I like creating stories. I always did. It’s true that life is often stranger than fiction, but I wanted the strangeness to be my own creation. My dreams now are really different.

Through this college road trip, the one place I have fallen in love with more than any other, is New York. As of September of last year, I had never really considered writing a novel, until I opened a word document on my fancy-dancy new laptop, and began to write. I found out about this crazy thing called NaNoWriMo in October, signed up, and wrote 5011 words the next month, what would become my first completed novel.

My dreams are different now. I no longer want to live primarily in London, I really adore New York. I want to have a novel published (and NOT self-published) and I want to live in the city. I’ll work as a waitress to cover the bills,(if I have to) but hopefully pull an Ann Brashares, and work in publishing/editing/marketing while writing at 2 am. (Of course, my MAJOR dream right now would be to have a novel on the way to publication before college, write for four years, and have enough income to write full time, and live in an apartment with no more than one roommate. Dreaming here.) The point is that I want different things now. I see the world through potentially naive eyes, yes, but without the dream of something bigger, and the hope that I’ll reach those dreams, all I have is right here.

I have a laptop, and a head full of ideas, and a 3.somethingnottoosucky GPA. Those things in conjunction won’t get me anywhere. My grade point average isn’t going to convince an agent to sign with me, or Dutton to make an offer, or a college to fall at my feet. Dreams are what move us forward. The laptop holds a novel, and a dream. The Nottoosucky GPA holds the hope of college, the head full of ideas thinks big both academically and writing wise. But without that dream, I don’t go anywhere.

Without work, we rarely get what we want. But without dreams, we don't have something TO want. I'm excited about these dreams, but nervous that I won't achieve them. What will happen if I fail? Will my dreams change? What were your dreams when you were younger? What are they now?

 

5326 / 60000 words. 9% done!