The radio sings in the background and my fingers type rapidly across the black keyboard. My foot starts moving to the beat of a good song. I crack my knuckles, tap my fingers across the laptop, and think. What should I write about? The page is mostly blank, my ideas are taking a vacation, and the clock ticks impatiently. I know I need to write something meaningful, something really good as my first post, but nothing comes to mind. My thoughts drift to dreams of writing novels and publishing books. Am I good enough? That’s the age-old question. Are people going to like the stories that I write?
The song on the radio ends and I sigh. There’s no point worrying about my dream career now…I’m only fourteen! But wouldn’t it be cool to publish a book as a teen? I think. What if I became an author as a fourteen year old? I roll my eyes. I should use my brain to stop dreaming and start thinking up ideas to write about. I’m still getting used to a blog, as I’ve never had one before. This is turning into a pathetic first post. I should delete this. But I don’t. Something in me likes the reality of it. Maybe other writers can relate.
Another good song is playing. I tuck my hair behind my ear, stick my tongue out, and slap the laptop in a form of surrender. I give up on this post. Perhaps people will like it. Perhaps.