This confession is about ambition. Because any writer who claims not to be ambitious is a probably lying. A writer does not set out to build a story. A writer sets out to build an empire.
I have been a neglectful empire builder, leisurely choosing my bricks and waiting too long to transcribe my plans. But with notebook and pen in hand, I hope to get back to building.
Last night, I was thinking about what makes me happy. As I wrote out the draft of this blog post, I fully realized writing is what makes me happy (along with a few other things such as family and dark chocolate). There was nothing original in this realization; I’ve long known writing is one of the pieces to my happiness puzzle. What was new was the other realization of how dampened that which makes me happy can become by the mundane, and the value I was placing on the mundane.
So here’s to not getting entangled by the mundane. Here’s to the empires out there, the names and the stories. Most importantly, here’s to the builders.