a five year road block

So, I should probably mention that one really big thing has been standing in my way of writing anything even remotely approaching pleasant and prose-like. That thing is called a thesis. A big, long, icky, boring and LONG thesis. When I entered grad school I thought writing a thesis was the coolest thing ever. I mean how awesome would it be to put on your resume that you researched something of your choosing and then wrote up a fabulous article about everything you discovered? Super right? Amazing? Awe-inspiring! So not. Anyone who tells you that individual research is the best way to spend your twenties is LYING. It is true that most embark on this "adventure" with much excitement, thinking that they will learn a great deal and come out on the other end a smarter, more well-rounded person. Well I can tell you for sure that you do, eventually, come out the other end. And you are smarter, but you're smarter in way you wish you weren't. Knowing, unequivocally, that there were about a million OTHER things you would have rather been doing with your time. Like sleeping, and drinking, and basically doing anything else besides writing and correcting and being miserable.

That my good readers was how I spent the greater part of my twenties, in fact, I only just finished. Let me tell you it was a rude slap in the face when I breezed through three years of grueling (but interesting) classes and then stagnated for the next THREE years trying to finish my project. I complained to anyone who would listen, and yes I recognize that was probably not the best use of my time, but come on! more than five years and countless sleepless nights adds up to a lot to complain about and even more to be miserable over. From this I learned two important lessons:

1) enough booze with good friends can fix almost anything, including having your manuscript rejected for possibly the 100th time and,
2) I don't ever want to write a thesis again. Ever.

Strangely I have not given up on the idea of possibly pursuing a Ph.D, which, I know, includes writing a dissertation. However, I see two big differences between my quest for this degree and my previous one.

1) I know what I am getting myself into and,
2) a dissertation is generally of the length and breadth of the thesis I have already written, which, my advisers said, was too long and too detailed. So sue me.

Imagine my disgust when I went to the holding case for all the theses written by people in my department and found ones that were approximately THIRTY pages. THIRTY. DIE UNDERACHIEVERS DIE.

So, to me anyway, it is relatively easy to see why writing has not been on the forefront of my mind. Regardless, I did find, towards the end of my tenure at Casa de Crazy Thesis Writers, that writing to people I actually liked, about subject matter that I actually enjoyed, was pleasurable, and was something I should have done more of. Imagine that.

I suppose that my desire to rediscover writing for pleasure was born out of my disgust with writing for distinction, or merely because I had to. I do wonder sometimes if that is how paid writers feel, shut up in their towers trying desperately to come up with the next paragraph in their 40 chapter book. Just thinking about that makes me shudder. A lot. Poor J.K. Rowling...actually no, she's shut up in her Scottish tower, a billionaire, having created Harry Potter. Harry freakin' Potter, sympathy isn't coming her way just yet.

So yes, my writing will now commence. I am busily deciding who will be graced with my first letter. I am torn between having it be someone important, in the sense that it's someone I want to reconnect with, or someone to which I have something profound to say, or having it just be to someone random to which I would normally shoot.

Decisions...