After a six-month hiatus and a nudge from my critique group, I am posting an update to this blog. It’s not that I stopped writing; I’ve written plenty, just nothing I wanted to share. My last post revealed my deepest, darkest secret and received the feedback I dreaded the most, from the source I respected the most, my writing teacher.
She said, “Wow, your Adam obsession reminds me so much of my Wes Studi era…We both know that the chances of these famous people launching our own artistic dreams are very slim.”
Yes, of course I know.
“…but go ahead and write that novel about a young man who becomes a singer. Or have fun on your blog and explore your dreams and obsession.”
No way. I will write his biography or die trying.
I knew telling the truth would open myself up to ridicule, or worse, pity that I actually believe I will succeed. I know logically it is an unrealistic dream. Please don’t remind me. I know. I do. But try telling that to my heart and soul because they don’t fucking care about realism and logic. They care about what rings true inside.
The idea for this book hit me like a kick to the stomach…literally. When I thought “I want to write Adam's bio from the inside out,” I felt in my gut that I would. I’m not talking about a sweet little fantasy about how it would feel. I physically reacted as if I were actually writing it right then. I was nervous, excited, determined and sure. I felt overwhelmed as if someone had just called to tell me my proposal had been accepted and I would be writing this book.
Besides stating the obvious, that my chances are slim, the comment that struck the deepest nerve rears its head each time I sit down to write, begging me to set the record straight, so that's what I'm going to do. I love my teacher and her classes, so I do not mean to be ugly in any way. Her misunderstanding, reflected in the following words, showed me that I have not adequately explained my inner relationship with Adam Lambert: “…explore what Adam has that you want. What about him grabbed you? There are many magnetic, famous people. You chose him. Go inside and own the things you love about him that are already yours. Use it to fuel yourself and give you courage as an artist. Good luck!”
My turn to say wow.
I did not choose Adam Lambert, I promise. And no, he didn’t choose me, either. I did not consciously say to myself, "Oh, hey, why don't I become so interested in an American Idol contestant this season that people will think I'm nuts. That should be fun!"
My attraction or obsession or devotion or interest or whatever the hell you want to call it just is. The only choice I’ve made regarding Adam is admitting out loud how invested I am. (to be continued)
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