For as long as I can remember I have loved the written word. I have been a book worm since I learned to read. Books have the ability to take us to places far away and they help us to forget the struggles that we deal with on a daily basis. I had a teacher that helped with that love. She read to us at the end of everyday for at least half an hour. Even in fifth grade she did this. She brought books to life with the way she read, and we sat engrossed in the story. I learned how to read like that, my kids love to hear me read, and while in church I loved getting up and reading scripture. I would read it through many times along with the passages before and after so that I knew what was being said, why it was being said and how it should be read. I loved reading to the congregation, and felt honored to be asked to. But nothing, nothing beats writing for me.
I have written so many things as a young writer. Poetry, only once but it was really good, so good in fact the Senior English teacher stopped and asked if she might share it. And then tell me that she loved it. I was a freshman, sitting with my friends during lunch and when she walked away I was bombarded with questions. What poem and could they read it. I was embarrassed and I am pretty sure that I didn’t let anyone read that poem. Like most of the things that I write, very few read it. In fact I haven’t even told really anyone about my blog. I have written quite a few post but still have yet to tell family or even friends about it. One friend knows but because he truly supports me and I love his feedback on my posts, because they are honest. Also most of my blog posts are about dealing with the loss of Ed. I’m not sure why I haven’t really put my blog out there. Maybe is fear of being judged though I don’t think so. After all I put it out there for anyone to read. It’s not really a secret, it’s just not announced either.
I have written a few short stories, none of them finished, why because I worry about them being that perfect story, and in my mind they are not perfect because I doubt myself. So I did something that I thought would help. I keep seeing adds for this thing called Master Class. A large group of artists and scientists, actors, writers and just about anyone else we consider a master of their trade and they teach a class. I took one on writing and have learned so much that it excites me to write again. I loved that I learned no ones first draft is perfect. So write and if you don’t like the way it goes, then change it in the second draft. Simple, the main thing is to finish it. Just put the story out there and see what happens. I had hoped that during this quarantine that we are in I would have time to write. Nope I have one of those essential jobs. So while everyone else talks about the drag of staying home, I go to work every day. If this thing ever ends I really want a vacation!! Lol So I do what I can. I write on my lunch and after work if there is time. (There usually isn’t) All I can say is I hope soon we will get life back to normal.
Writing helps me get all the thoughts out of my head. I’ve been a journal writer since a very young age. I use to have books and books of journals that our teachers made us write in school. As I got older, I just kept it up. This blog is just another way to journal for me. I actually feel bad for my therapist for writing as much as I do, yet my writing helps me see where I am at in life. Since I am one who whom conceals my feelings, my writing is the place I can go back to and see what I was thinking. How I reacted and if that reaction is what I want it to be. Trust me they never are. We all know hindsight is 2020. What it does best, is help me prepare for the next time. And since it is written down I can go back and analyze over and over again. Lol
In the end here is what I want you to take away from all this rambling. Writing is like air to me. Much like drawing, or painting, or doing numbers, or playing music is to others. Writing is that for me. I am so blessed to have met so many other writers through my blog and other blogs. I have found support among my peers and you can never have enough support. Thus I have continued to write and work on my first book. It has reached the part where it breaks the heart, but in order for the story to end well the tough stuff must be written.
To my fellow bloggers out there, keep writing for you inspire me. Your honest truth is beautiful and I am blessed by it. May you always have a story to tell and the words to tel it. Stay safe!
Dee