"Families are like fudge - mostly sweet with a few nuts." Author Unknown

I've only read two David Sedaris books: Me Talk Pretty One Day recommended by my sister and, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim recommended by a girl at my new job, who invited me to join her monthly book club. ( Yes, you read it right! I was invited to join a book club!) Both times I was quickly sucked in by Sedaris' self-deprecating wit and both times he re-kindled my interest on my own family stories.

When I read Sedaris, my immediate train of thought was: "Couldn't I also exploit my family's crazy quirks and hilariously unique anecdotes and get paid $$$$$$$$$$ to do so?"


So many times, after hanging out with any one of my many family members, I've opened up that blank word document, fingers poised on my ergonomic keyboard anxiously waiting for the words to flow. I sit there as the glowing screen taunts me, challenging me to write something reader-worthy. It is a staring contest that can go on for hours, until my eyes blur over and I am the first to blink, leaving my victory for another day.

Then I ask myself, does everyone think their family is worth writing about?

Why do only some share their stories with the world?

Is it just that some are writers and some are readers or is it actually that David Sedaris' life is more interesting than mine?

With two foreign parents and four older siblings (the youngest, only 8 years older than me), you'd think that my writing would be overflowing with exciting and embarrassing stories. But even if inspiration hits, as soon as I open up that word doc. my creativity shuts down and I am left staring in frustration; grasping at the disappearing wisps of revelation. But I will not lose faith.

Maybe I can put this on my list of New Year's resolutions for 2010. So far, I've got:

1. Write on my blog more often - if not everyday, at least every other day.

And now...

2. Write a least one story about one of my family members each month.

(Two working titles are: The Year of the Pineapples* and Brunch.)

Wish me luck!

Very Superstitious

"...The way to succeed was to believe you wouldn't, that only someone convinced of failure had a chance of success." Julian, from Matrimony pg. 103

When your friend says "I'm so happy there is no traffic on I-95!" and all of a sudden your car is crawling in bumper to bumper traffic.

When you're having a barbecue in the summer "Weather Channel said there was a chance for rain, but look how sunny it is!" and then the clouds roll in.

When you go for an interview and you're thinking, "Man, I did great!" But you don't want to say it out loud because you know that will jinx it.

It is there when you knock on wood, or throw salt over your shoulder. Superstition and luck are interlaced in your everyday life. Whether you're aware of it or not. It may be unnatural for you to sit there and hope for the worst. Weird even, to think that you'll fail so that you don't. However, even though I try my hardest to be positive, I have that voice in the back of my mind saying, "Don't get too excited. Don't want it so bad. Just be cooooool!" (Is it just me? Oh man, that would be embarrassing).

I liked walking through the development of Julian's artistic self-esteem in this book. We meet him when he's starting out in college, taking his first Creative Writing workshop. With the necessary encouragement from his professor, he accepts his lot as a writer. We are with him when he struggles through his writer's block. We celebrate when he finally finishes his novel and is confident in himself and his art.

What I found interesting, is that writers don't feel like writers until they get some kind of recognition. Could it be a chicken and the egg thing? What comes first, being a writer or getting published (which then makes you a writer?). I kind of like what Julie's husband says about this in Julie & Julia. He tells her that she was always a writer and just because she wasn't published or recognized yet, that didn't change that important fact.

But then again, maybe I just want to believe that because then even I can call myself a writer?