Becoming a Writer

When I was very young, I wanted to be a writer. I had so many favorite books — Laura Ingall's Wilder's Little House on the Prairie series, Stuart Little, The Trumpet and the Swan, The Cricket in Times Square and my favorite Charlotte's Web.  I would organize all my books on the antique bookshelf in my room and read and re-read them over and over. I also loved the illustrations — especially by Garth Williams.

During this time, I also used to write and illustrate my own books. When I was in first grade, my teacher liked one of my stories enough to send me to a young writer's workshop at the local collage. It was a crazy tale about a man riding through space on a cigar. (Hey, it was the 70's!)  From that time on, I just assumed I'd grow up and become a writer. 

I am now a woman of a certain age (ahem) and other than weak attempts at a novel during NanOWrimo, I do not write. How can I call myself a writer if I don't write? I read, I paint, I draw and do other creative endeavors that require me to take a leap, be brave and face the fear of just starting. So why don't I write?

I'm not exactly sure. I think it stems from me being a perfectionist and a Virgo. Everything I write I compare to what is out there and it never measures up. My stories seem flat. Or the stories in my head never translate the way I want them to onto the page. So I give up.

Which is crazy because those that know me best also know that I never give up. EVER. I have been bowling for four years now and my average just got to 115. Last spring, I joined a golf league and I spent more time driving the club into the ground then driving the ball. A year ago I begin doing hot yoga and even though I cannot twist my body into those crazy positions, I love it. So why have I given up on writing? I have no idea.

As I age, I realize that the key to having a full life is doing what speaks to your soul, fills you up, makes you happy. Well, writing makes me happy.  But, writing also takes practice — just like painting, drawing, golf, bowling and doing a handstand in yoga (which I can now do a year later—but it has to be up against the wall and it only lasts a few seconds) :)

So this blog is my chance to practice my writing in a way that suites me. I'm not sure what I'll write. Maybe just a story about my day or week, maybe a poem or even a short story. I have no idea what will come out. Or maybe writing for me will be like bowling— my first year I got an award for the lowest average on the league and that same night I also got an award for most improved bowler. Yeah. Plucky optimistic, that's me. I suck but I keep showing up. That's how I do.

Okay, so it will be scary but I'm willing to try because I don't want to come to the end of my life knowing that I never tried to do the one thing I dreamt of doing of as a young girl.

Time to be brave.

xo
Nan