Let's Cut the Crap: In Which I Make a Confession.

You know I'm not blogging.
I know I'm not blogging.
So the question is what am I doing? *hushed whispers roll through the crowd*
You guys. YALL.
I'm writing.
ALOT.
And basically I had to grow a pair in order to come out and say that just now.
That's the short version of this post and here, my friends, is the long version:

Most of you know that I graduated in December with a Bachelors in Political Science, which was awesome and I loved it. My program was awesome, my profs were awesome. It was awesome. Awesome was awesome.
But it was so so so intense, I spent three years learning about countries, diplomat etiquette, obscure political parties, court cases that address consensual adults who engage in sodomy, and dumdum bullets (among other things :)).
All of those things are really freaking cool, so cool that they could make your head explode.
And mine almost did.
Until I started reading YA (young adult) books again. I began to devour YA in all shapes and sizes.  I had dabbled in YA and middlegrade before, but this was a whole new chapter in my obsession.
Originally, in the infancy of my Bachelors, I had planned to major in English. I even took a couple of creative writing classes (where I met my husband, win!) under the guise that I was interested in editing or even technical writing. I told my friends and professors I wanted to be well-rounded should I decide to go into publishing, so I took creative writing.
I said that to people because letting people think you're not fully vested in something you love is alot less scary than showing people how much you actually care. I thought if I convinced myself that I didn't care about the product I was producing it wouldn't hurt when people teared it to shreds. blah blah blah.
So creative writing classes, guess what?  It was freaking awesome.
You know what else? It's really fucking scary to admit to people that you want to be a writer.
I mean, shit, that's a loaded statement. People ask things like: what do you write? can I read it? Those unassuming and innocent questions, over time, morph into things like: You're not published yet? Aren't writers published? How do writers get paid? Is that a real profession? I love to talk about my writing, I do, I promise. But making that initial admission to people that you write. That's some scary shit.
OK I've gotten a little off track.
Anyways I took an AMAZING government class that made me feel like an empowered, aware citizen so I changed my major and stood on my political soap box until I graduated. (I still pull my soap box out of the closet for special occasions.)
So here I am, a college graduate, twiddling my thumbs.
This is what I know:
1. I don't want to go to law school. I don't hate myself enough to do that.

2. Getting a poli sci masters sounds interesting, but I don't want to be a prof, I don't want to research, and I absolutely do not want to work for a politician, let alone be one.

3. I love YA books (All books really, I read some adult books. Promise). Still. It hasn't changed, not a bit, not even wavered ever so slightly. YA books are something I've always come back to. When I was dirt poor after high school and couldn't even afford community college I picked up every Holly Black or Ellen Hopkins book I could get my hands on at used book stores or libraries.

4. I love libraries. They combine my love of books and a little bit of my love for government (THESE BOOKS ARE MADE AVAILABLE TO THE PUBLIC VIA THE GOVERNMENT, how cool is that you guys??? And, also FREEDOM OF SPEECH ANYBODY?) Deciding to get my MLS is the easiest decision I've ever made and I will do it someday. But not today. Because right now I am on a damn roll. Words are vomiting out of my brain and I want to make sure I can write them down.

As a dear friend recently told me, grad school will be there in January (when I had originally planned to start) and it will be there next year and the year after and so on, but this writing mojo I've got going. This thing may not always be there. So I'm going to pursue this for now.

Anyways, all that to say: I wrote a book you guys.
I said: I WROTE A BOOK YOU GUYS.

Not only did I write a book, but I wrote it in three weeks. And you wanna know what? I really like it. And some other people do too and that's cool.
So maybe I'll never get an agent and I'll never sell my book. Maybe it's really not all that good, but that's okay. I wrote a book and some people like it and I never in a million years thought I would ever be able to say that.
I never thought I would be able to admit how much I love to write. And that's really freaking cool, you wanna know why? (Life lesson moment you guys.) BECAUSE I'M GROWING AS A PERSON. I don't care if I do this and fail, because the point is that I'm doing this.
So don't be afraid. It's silly and you're wasting your time.
Do what you're scared to admit you love, because WHO GIVES A SHIT IF YOU SUCK?? YOU'RE DOING WHAT YOU LOVE. And that, my dear friends is really freaking cool.
If I don't need an agent or an editor to write than you don't need a gallery show to paint or whatever it is you do.
Life isn't about "what do I want to be when I grow up?" Life is about "what do I want to be today?" and today I want to be a writer. (disclaimer: long term goals are awesome too.)
That is my life lesson for this year. Heed my life lessons, they are few and far between.

-J

ps- for the record I still love to talk politics and make your ass grass with my mad knowledge of random shit like international pirating (ahoy!) laws.
oh! And if you're still interested in book reviews, I'll be posting here once in a blue moon. And leave me a comment because I'm a narcissist in desperate need of reassurance.