Canadian Winters

So I woke up on Tuesday intending to commute to school. But then I opened the blinds and saw this:

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This:

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That:

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And this:

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And decided to go back to sleep. Some things are just better left untouched and alone.

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I don’t need you to be my hero

Just some backword thoughts

The less the better. If we had less heroes, the world would be a better place. If we stopped looking up to people, following them, aspiring to be them, then would we actually look at ourselves?

I woke up at 5 this morning and my body refused to let me sleep in until my scheduled wake up time of 7:30. I need to get back into my normal sleeping patterns. If I’m up I might as well do something productive before school. I read a quote from Sherlock, posted by jessicaandtheworld and I loved it, so I jotted down  some of my thoughts. Mind you, at 5 in the morning this may not make much sense — feel free to stop reading if it doesn’t — but I think the construct of heroism is something we should pay attention to not only as people but as writers.

The less the better. If we had less heroes, the world would be a better place. If we stopped looking up to people, following them, aspiring to be them, then would we actually look at ourselves?

Sometimes I get lost in the great authors and their works, and I forget about myself. I’m a writer, and so are you. It’s true that without the bodies of works that we’ve read we wouldn’t be the awesome writers that we are today. We can’t help but be influenced and stimulated by the texts that we read and see. However, it is also true that we need space to grow as writers.

Your voice is unique, your story untold; think of what you risk losing by trying to be Hemingway, Woolf or Shakespeare. These people are our writing heroes because their writings and ideas are new. They were influenced by previous artists, poets and authors, but found a way to internalizing their influences. It’s a hard thing to do, to stand out in a day when everyone is a “writer,” but you owe it to your being, history and ideas.

So where is your writing voice; where have you left it? Maybe you lost it a while ago while reading Austen or Sanderson. Maybe you forgot it in the train, sleeping with Eliot in your hands. Regardless, we’re not here to judge (I’ve tossed my voice away in some unspectacular places). Find that voice and love it like it’s Prince George of Cambridge. Actually, don’t do that. Love it like it’s yours.

Maybe if we focussed on developing our own talents and skills, we needn’t measure ourselves against others; maybe that’s the fear, that we can actually look up to ourselves, that we can see ourselves in others.

What are some troubles you’ve experienced as a writer? What, or who, inspires you to write?