They're Just Words.

I've known, even before it was my major, that writers have it rough. Extremely rough. I had all those thoughts ringing between my ears when I sat in the UAD office and switched my major to creative writing two and a half years ago. Now, with technology constantly changing while the economy weakens, the publishing field will probably be non existent by the time someone is willing to hire to me. I know this. I've known this. But I still dream of it.

I'm having a hard time being okay with having a bachelor of arts degree in creative writing with a minor and focus in professional writing, editing and publishing. People aren't going to take me very seriously.

I'm trying to polish my craft, strengthen my art, but it's hard. I have all these incredible writers as professors, as mentors. That having been said, it's really frustrating to not be doing well while studying under them. I can't get anything better than a 3.25 in my non fiction class, my preferred genre of creative writing. And while I seem to be able to bullshit my way through fiction, my attendance alone will cause me to do less than stellar in the class come Decemeber.

I know I'm good. I don't know if it's because I've been told that I am my entire life or if it's because I truly believe I'm able to cultivate some kind of talent with words. But I know I'm good. Am I good enough to make a living at it? I may never know in this market. Now I just need reason to still try.