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MidReal Story
J K Rowling declared an entire year as living in
Anonymous
Dec 9
Scenario:J K Rowling declared an entire year as 'living in a novel,' attempting to turn every life event into a dramatic literary moment.
Create my version of this story
I guess I’ve always known that I am a writer.
Not that I’ve ever really written anything.
But it’s the desire to write that has always raged within me.
It’s the dream of writing, and not the reality of it, that has always seemed to define me.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always felt like a fraud.
Because if I were really a writer, then wouldn’t I have written something by now?
Wouldn’t I have some great work of art hiding somewhere, waiting to be discovered?
Wouldn’t I have actually done something by now?
But I haven’t.
And as the years have slipped by, it has become easier and easier to believe that I never will.
To believe that all I really am is a dreamer.
That all my dreams are just that: dreams.
A couple of months ago, I began to realize that there was one thing that was standing in my way.
Perhaps the only thing that was standing in my way.
And that was the fact that so much of what happens in my life seems so ordinary.
So mundane.
I’ve always felt as if my life happened on the page, and not in real life.
That maybe my life would be more interesting if it were happening to someone else.
Maybe if it were happening to someone like me, as opposed to me, then maybe it would be happening to someone interesting enough for it to be worth writing about.
But maybe that’s not true.
Maybe what I need is not someone else’s life.
Maybe what I need is just a new way of thinking about mine.
Maybe that will make all the difference.
It’s easy to think about turning points when you are alone in a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, drinking black coffee and eating pieces of lemon loaf with your hands.
It’s easy to think about how things can change, and how everything might be different, when all you have are your thoughts and there’s nothing else to distract you from them.
For a while there, I really thought that this might be the beginning of something new for me.
That this might be the moment when everything changed.
When my life became less of a dream and more of a reality.
When things started to happen for real instead of just in my head.
I guess it’s easy to think those things when you’re alone with your thoughts in a coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, drinking black coffee and eating pieces of lemon loaf with your hands.
And it’s easy to go back on them once the coffee is gone and the rain has stopped and you’re still sitting there with nothing but your thoughts and nothing has changed at all.
And that’s how I found myself sitting alone in that coffee shop on another rainy afternoon, wondering if my dreams would ever become reality and realizing that they probably never would.
