I have wanted to be a writer my entire life. Maybe most people who love to read can say that; I not sure. But guess what I’ve written… Nothing.
I mean, I wrote some pretty average research papers in college and a few clever little things in high school. Back then, I loved the writing assignments that I was given- despite my dad’s eagle eye editing and hours of crying, “Why are you being so mean? The teacher will know what I mean!” Honestly, now, I am very thankful for those sessions, because today I’m a pretty good editor and proofreader!
But these days, I don’t even like to write brief emails or thank you letters or postcards when I’m on vacation. Sitting down and putting words to paper just seems like too daunting of a task. I took a non-fiction writing class at Stanford several years ago to have some accountability and put so little effort into it that I’m actually a little ashamed to tell about it here.
Dolly Parton says she’s a successful songwriter because she makes sure she creates one song each day. I had heard the same thing about writing, but I couldn’t get myself to put one word one a page- either electronically or manually. My mom, Anne, and mother-in-law, Leigh, have been so supportive along the way. They’ve encouraged me to get going, but I just couldn’t do it.
Maybe because I don’t want to end up looking like muppet:
Seriously though, last July, things changed. I woke up one morning AND JUST HAD TO WRITE. It was the same feeling as when I crave water; I needed it. And I’ve thought about it a lot since then. I’ve come up with some picture book ideas, read some young adult literature to get into the genre, and tried to read outside my comfort zone in the adult books I’ve picked. I even took a “Writing for Young Adults” workshop with Leigh during ArtTown in Reno.
Still, no writing. At all. Until last Thursday. That’s when the need turned into something more. I finally acted on it, and here we are!
I don’t know what finally pushed me over the edge, but I’ve written nine days in a row. NINE days. For me to do anything for nine days is pretty remarkable, especially something that is good for me, something that soothes my soul, something that makes me proud…that excites me, that motivates me to do more.
And now, I’m writing all the time in one way or another. I’m writing when I sit in front of my computer, telling Siri my ideas as I drive (and reading the world’s worst notes later when I’m not in the car). I haven’t done something with this verve in a long, long time. And I have to say, I’m liking it. I’m hooked. And I’ve never felt better.