I don't know how to get back into this blog-thing.
I miss it. When I was posting content consistently, I felt like I was doing what I needed to be doing. I loved the community I found, and I loved what I was writing about. This blog and the literary world encouraged me to go to school for creative writing, which was a huge decision!
Here's the thing: I've dedicated thousands of dollars and countless hours of my life to this field, because I love it. I know I do. In my deepest-deeps, I know books and writing are what make me feel most at home.
But somehow, since I started college, I can't seem to remember what street I live on, you know?
All of my assignments started piling up and blocked my view of the purpose of it all. I went to college to study writing and books because I wanted to perfect my craft and analyze the craft of others. Suddenly, though, writing was no longer something I liked. I was criticized for wanting to write young adult books, for enjoying genre fiction, for loving what I'm inclined to love. I was told to write "literary fiction," which is--I consistenly argue with my peers--SUCH a dumb concept. What keeps a book from being "literary?" Literarlly nothing. So, so dumb.
Anyways, for a long while now I haven't felt right with myself, so I'm coming back to where it all began. I'm spending the summer before my senior year catching up with what I love and reminding myself why I love it. Reading is what inspires my writing and also keeps me sane. (Maybe this is why I've been struggling so badly, since I haven't had time to focus on books that don't melt my brain.) Including my blog in this process will be awkward and bumpy, I know, but we'll truck through it together.
I'm starting with my favorite authors and their new books, and I'll work my way out from there. I can tell you I just finished Jandy Nelson's, I'LL GIVE YOU THE SUN, and already my insides are starting to feel itchy.
Normally I'd be alarmed by itchy insides, but in this case, I'm feeling pretty good about them.