{"id":2876,"date":"2016-11-11T16:55:00","date_gmt":"2016-11-11T21:55:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.med.unc.edu\/iris\/iris\/index\/flip\/untitled-6\/"},"modified":"2018-08-03T13:51:29","modified_gmt":"2018-08-03T17:51:29","slug":"untitled-6","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.med.unc.edu\/iris\/index\/flip\/untitled-6\/","title":{"rendered":"Untitled"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

by Betsy Price, MS1<\/p>\n

\n

There are things that I\u2019ll never be and tasks that I\u2019ll never pursue\u2014not because I can\u2019t but because I shouldn\u2019t. There\u2019s a certain call for adventure and rebellion that screams out to everyone, whether it be in little whispers or gigantic urges, and some people act on these desires. I do, too, when I curl up in my bed with my computer on my knees, pulling the blankets around my shoulders; when I sit at my desk because I need a tiny bit of structure in my otherwise chaotic life; when I\u2019m at the library in whatever comfortable chair I can find that\u2019s also near an outlet (my laptop never seems to hold a full charge when I need it to); when I\u2019m in Starbucks nursing a green tea latte with soy milk and trying with decidedly little success to block out the odd taste in music that is their store playlist. I act on them whenever my fingers dance across the keyboard to create sequences of words and eventual sentences and paragraphs and pages, stringing together every letter in a process not unlike DNA sequencing. I, too, can create a human being, after all, and I do.<\/p>\n

Writing is my adventure. My characters are often very much like me but so incredibly different. Most are much stronger than me. Many are more immoral than myself. A few are more heartbroken, others more carefree. Some are more intelligent, intuitive. I have a special type of affection reserved for each one.<\/p>\n

When they embark on a journey, I go with them with laptop at the ready and plot twists forming in my brain like the beginnings of a hurricane. There does, however, come a point when my brain works more quickly than my fingers can type, and I find myself stuck with worlds in my head and rapidly developing characters screaming for exposure or recognition on a blank word document. Days roll by when writing is difficult. Perhaps I\u2019m anxious, I\u2019m probably tired, I might be feeling down and the words that I need refuse to be formed from the expansive chaos that my plotting brain has become. On days such as those, I remind myself of a quote I heard once, a passing thought gleaned from some Youtube documentary:<\/p>\n

\u201cThis thing that we have won\u2019t exist without us, and it\u2019s necessary.\u201d<\/p>\n

I plaster that quote everywhere I see a blank space\u2014on the whiteboard in my kitchen, on a digital sticky note I see every time I open my computer. I force myself to remember that sentence often.<\/p>\n

The calling for action and suspense and a life that I wouldn\u2019t experience otherwise is always there, but without a willing participant, it means little. It begs and begs every morning to work as a team with me, an author, and until I accept this responsibility, what hope remains? With every passing day, it becomes and more necessary, more and more urgent, because I begin to realize that I\u2019m not the only one who craves adventure. I have been gifted with an out-of-bounds imagination and the ability to pen my thoughts, to transfer them from theoretical code to a concrete structure. This skill, both a blessing and a curse, obligates me to write not only for myself, but for the masses who have the same needs as I.<\/p>\n

A great responsibility sits on my shoulders, perched as it watches\u2014impatient, waiting. The adventure itself is an escape, but it\u2019s the weight of the obligation that keeps me grounded and balanced.<\/p>\n

My mind is my strategy, my laptop my weapon as I brave the battlefield and set sail into the universe that\u2019s been calling my name for much too long.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by Betsy Price, MS1 There are things that I\u2019ll never be and tasks that I\u2019ll never pursue\u2014not because I can\u2019t but because I shouldn\u2019t. There\u2019s a certain call for adventure and rebellion that screams out to everyone, whether it be in little whispers or gigantic urges, and some people act on these desires. I do, … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":65900,"featured_media":0,"parent":2610,"menu_order":52,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"class_list":["post-2876","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry","odd"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nUntitled - Iris: The Art and Literary Journal - UNC School of Medicine<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"noindex, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Untitled - Iris: The Art and Literary Journal - UNC School of Medicine\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"by Betsy Price, MS1 There are things that I\u2019ll never be and tasks that I\u2019ll never pursue\u2014not because I can\u2019t but because I shouldn\u2019t. 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