To Be or Not to Be?

It’s like Hamlet said, “To my own self be true,” wait, or was it that Polonius guy who said it? Cher? Earth to Cher, come in Cher! I should probably know Shakespeare quite accurately by now since I read many of his works {cliffsnotes counts right} throughout my high school and college career, but there are so many Kings, Queens, Incestuous brothers and sisters, and constant backstabbing that occurs within each play that they all sort of mix together. Sorry Billy, I love you, but I just have to be honest. So, anyway I have come to the conclusion that I’m going to be a published author. I know, right? Exciting. When is this happening? Well…I don’t quite know yet, but it’s going to happen. I can feel it in my loins…it’s either that or I definitely pulled a muscle last night in my hip hop class {BoomBoomKack? Obviously}, either way that is my goal: to be published. Now, I know you’re thinking, Well Marc…what on earth are you planning on getting published? Oh reader, I have many possibilities, but right now I am working on my most recent novel and I gotta say I am quite smitten with my newborn. It’s a fictional novel and though it is only in its beginning stages {I like to write my novels in their rough draft form by hand, and then type them out as I edit them} I have sworn to myself that I will make this story happen from start to finish.
I love to write. As a child I would always write the most random stories. Tall tells that would be about mice befriending elephants in the park {I always thought the zoo was too cliche…and don’t even get me started on animals in the wild}, or a random adventure unfolding with the Power Rangers in Bakersfield where they would need the help of a young boy {Me obviously}, and there were also the countless journals I owned that had maybe…five entries in each one. I remember telling myself in middle school and high school Marc, you are going to write in this thing every day. Every. Single. Day. You are going to write in it and take this seriously. And then I got into other things, like watching television or playing sports, but in the end I still always enjoyed the art of writing which lead to my early passion towards reading books, magazines, and newspapers. Do I consider myself a writer? Of course, because I do this thing called ‘writing.’ Am I a good writer? No. I’m a great writer. Actually…I think we can all agree that I’m possibly THE best writer that I have ever met. Am I the next Thoreau, Melville, or even the next Emerson? Obviously not. Who wants to be the duplicate of another writer? Not me my friends. Not me. As much as I enjoyed reading Walden by Thoreau I could never use his work as a template. Why would I write about nature and living in solace when I can’t even stand to go camping for a weekend? And solitude – I can achieve that with a nice walk in Balboa park with my handy iPod, I don’t need to escape to some random pond and become one with nature. No thank you Mr. Thoreau, but I will stick to writing about what I know.
I think as a writer this is sort of the dilemma that you encounter though, writing about what you know could be your art, your craft if you will, but that could also come with the downside of hurting people who you know and possibly care for. You basically have to consider the fact that your words will either make people love you or hate you, rarely is there an in-between. For me, I would rather share my craft than push it aside based on the fact that some feelings may be tarnished in the end. Love it or hate it, I really could not care less. I mean, for Christ’s sake, I had a damn Gossip Blog where I put many…MANY individuals on blast because of their behavior. And this gossip was about people who I knew very well. Did I feel bad about it? Not at all. Did the public like it? Well, I want to say it had a 50/50 response. Readers loved it if they weren’t mentioned in any posts, but despised it if they happened to make a cameo in the blog. The blog wasn’t meant to be mean or cruel, but rather it was a sort of…well…I thought of it as like a big gay brother telling these particular boys and girls, “see what you’re doing? You’re acting like a fool doing this, this, and this. Stop it! Stop or continue looking like a public fool.” I agree with you reader, I was just doing charitable work, but I digress, in the end I was writing about what I knew and that is all it came down to.
What I know is that when I write certain blog posts, or poems, or random stories, I write them because I have something to say and it isn’t just word vomit. I write because I feel like people can connect with what I write, maybe not all people, but some may be able to relate with my words. I know that my writing may not be as heart warming as Nicholas Sparks, or as enticing as a Danielle Steel novel, but dammit if Nicole ‘Snooki’ Polizzi can have several…SEVERAL books published then I don’t see why my work can’t be deemed a New York Times Best Seller as well.So to answer my headline: To be or not to be? I have chosen to be a published writer.And with that, it is time to find myself a nice quiet spot where I can take out my leather-bound journal and continue to work on this novel.

{My leather-bound journal…adorned with a mockingjay. Obviously}

{Just a little inside look into my newborn…I’m a bit protective of him}