The Blank Page and the Bad Idea Parade

I’m convinced the blank page is not actually blank. It’s haunted.

Not by ghosts, per se—more like a parade of poorly dressed ideas from every era of my writing life, marching across the screen with too much confidence and no concept of plot structure.

You know the ones:

• The assassin librarian with a tragic backstory and no real arc.

• The sci-fi epic I tried to outline using only tea, willpower, and a spreadsheet.

• That fantasy novel that was basically just a therapy session in chainmail.

They show up the moment I sit down to write something new.
And they all want attention.

This is the journal of a wannabe author.

Not an aspiring author. Not a future best-selling author.
A wannabe—a title I claim with pride and a hint of side-eye.

• Because this path isn’t always glamorous.

• It’s messy Word Docs.

• It’s story ideas at 2:14 a.m. that sound like genius and smell like chaos by morning.

• It’s second-guessing every sentence and still forging ahead because silence isn’t an option anymore.

So, if you’re reading this—maybe on your own creative climb—know this:

• You’re not alone.

• There’s room on this page for your mess, too.

Let’s figure it out together.
Let’s learn. Let’s flail. Let’s write badly until something good stirs in the ink.

Because being a wannabe isn’t a step away from the dream.

It’s a step into it.

– Monnette