Memoirs of a Conflicted Writer: Part 2November 22, 2012
This is a true tale about my journey to becoming a published author. Most of the situations are factual, but character names and some speech have been invented.
July 17th 2009
Kevin drifts yards ahead of me in a very short space of time. I call his name out, but the loud music drowns it out. I steadily manoeuvre through the crowd with my right hand out. I get a number of angry glances, but I continue. I eventually reach the bar’s entrance, but there’s a queue to go outside. After another three minutes, I walk out and immediately turn left, to the section cordoned off for smokers. I notice Kevin holding a lit cigarette and talking to a young lady—probably in her early twenties—with flowing blond hair. I squeeze through a few more people before reaching him.
‘Marvin. Where have you been?’ he says.
‘Do you know how hard it is to even get out of that place?’
He laughs and diverts his attention to the woman. ‘This is my friend, Marvin,’ he says to her.
She smiles and extends her hand. I shake it and nod. ‘Hi, Marvin,’ she says. ‘I’m Lara.’
‘So what do you do, Marvin?’
‘He’s in IT,’ Kevin interrupts. ‘But he really wants to be a writer.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Really? You want to be a writer?’
‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ Kevin says.
‘Why is that ridiculous?’ she says. ‘I think it’s great.’ She faces me. ‘What kind of stuff do you want to write?’
‘Seriously?’ Kevin says. ‘Where is he going to find the time to write? He’s already got a job. Besides, do you see him as the writer type? Where is he going to get ideas from?’
She shrugs. ‘But who is the writer type? You can’t tell what people do by the way you see them.’ She looks at me. ‘What do you think I do?’
I exchange glances with both of them and shrug. ‘A nurse?’ I finally say.
‘She laughs. ‘I’ll let you off there. I actually get that a lot. It must be something about me. No, I’m a Solicitor.’
‘See,’ Kevin says. ‘That makes sense, more than him being a writer, anyway.’
She edges closer to me. ‘Look, Marvin. I don’t know you or anything about you, but if writing is what you want to do, don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re not good enough or smart enough to do it. Only you know what you’re capable of.’
A broad smile covers my face. ‘Thank you for saying that.’
‘My pleasure.’ She turns toward Kevin once more. ‘I’m going inside now.’
She walks past him and he quickly stubs his cigarette. ‘You coming,’ he says to me.
‘I’ll be there in a minute.’
He heads back to the bar’s entrance and I smile to myself. It’s funny to think how words from a complete stranger can be an unlikely source of motivation.
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