feeling gawky and gangly

I'm so cranky this morning, thinking about more instances where I said I wanted to write and then didn't. This one was not as long ago; I remember telling my friends that I was glad I was just running my own business after college so I would have more time to write. Where did that come from? I was on a full-ride five-year scholarship, and the only writing class I took outside of the required freshman torture exercise was a Russian writing class. (Need I mention that I didn't, then, actually write with my extra time? I used it to have poor health and be depressed.) My college roommate, Wendy, used to tell me that she thought someday she'd be reading a book I wrote, and Mandy asked me about writing the other night at dinner.

Mandy and I were talking about the moments when we stopped writing (she's a high school English teacher). For her, it was when she became a Literature major. She said reading all those giants was intimidating, and it made me think of the first time I read jen lemen's blog. I almost through in the blog towel right then and there.

I was mentioning this writing thing (apparently it comes out of my mouth more than I realize) to someone I am just getting to know, and she said, "What kind of book would you write?"

I have no idea. Maybe it's one of those things where the gawky, gangly girl has to admit to herself that she will never be a ballet star and lay the childhood dream to rest. But what if it's not, and I'm sitting here having no idea what to do?