Twitter, I'm here!

I've been deeply resistant to using Twitter. First of all, to be embarrassingly honest, I'm not all that social of a person and the idea of maintaining such a social site exhausts me (I'm also easily exhausted!). Second, my inner demon is rather convincing when it tells me I have nothing interesting to 'tweet' (is that the right usage?). That being said, I am forced to acknowledge that Twitter is a valuable tool for networking and that if I'm serious about being an author, Twitter can only help me accomplish that goal. Sigh. So, Twitter, here I am! Follow me! ;)

The whole issue illuminates an interesting duality to writing. In my mind, writing is an art. Marketing/networking is a business. I am no business mogul. However, to be a writer, I must become one. It's an old-world (extinct) sensibility crashing into a modern world reality. It becomes very clear that one's success lies with oneself. This is both empowering and terrifying. Hmph, time to grow up, eh? 

Reminiscing

This morning I was sitting on my sofa watching one of my favourite tv shows, Fashion TV, and I was assailed by a sense of nostalgia, sad for my lost youth, lost opportunity. When I was in high school, I was addicted to fashion magazines, Mirabella (anyone remember that one?), Vogue, and Elle were my favourites. I used to pour over the fashion spreads. I knew that this was art at its finest. Yes, I said 'finest'. Because this was art that was accessible. With $4, I could run down to the Pharmasave and buy a mag that inspired me; to take photos, to dream of distant exotic places, to wear exciting statement-making clothes, to build my idea of what kind of life I wanted to live. I am so envious of these people, photographers and journalists, designers and models, who had decided what they wanted to do with their lives and did it, with success. What would my life be if I'd approached my adulthood with an assumption of success rather than one of failure?

I marvel at my ‘niece’, who graduated high school and decided to become a hairstylist. Now, less than 2 years later, she’s got her own apartment in the downtown core and has a chair in one of the most prestigious salons in the city (kudos to her aunt who raised her!). I left high school and became a shiftless waitress. Here I am now, pushing 40, still wondering how to be the me I was always supposed to be. It's so trite to say it's all in your attitude, but holy shit, it really is.

So, I'm hoping that if "it's all in your attitude" is true, so will "it's never too late" also be true.

Every day, is a new day. A chance to try again, with new wisdom, knowledge of the stakes, and hopefully, a better attitude. An assumption of success.

Cheers!

A.J.