So, my buddy Kayeleen organized a "Why I Write Blogfest" and as I have a HORRIBLE track record with remembering I signed up for these things from time to time (sorry Kristin....a million times sorry!), I thought this was my time to prove that I really can follow through if I put my mind to it!
Please ignore the fact that it's now 11:46 pm the night before, I'm at the beach for one of my BFF's weddings, and during a random conversation, I remembered this and freaked out. The important thing is that I ACTUALLY remembered!
So, back to the matter at hand, why I write?
For me, it's easiest to begin with the reason I decided after all those years of school essays and papers to put a pen to paper. And yes, it was a small notebook I purchased and wrote in and yes, I still have it. What I wrote was more of a journal, accompanied by a few poems you can find throughout the blog that I've posted before. The reason was my sister. She was sick. Bad sick. Cancer sick. She was young. Way young. High School young.
I know, right?
Don't worry, she's alive, well, and getting married in a few months. But I didn't know that back then. None of us did. I like to think of her as quite the miracle, though many who have been through this with a loved one, will probably confess that the feeling of dread, that struggle, that thought that life is so precious, it really does fade once the drama has passed.
Wait...I'm off topic. Sorry, it happens. My point? I needed somewhere for all that pain and confusion to go, an outlet, somewhere to put it, so I turned to my journal. I wrote down my feelings, created a few poems, expressed myself. And it helped. Alot. I shared it with a friend who wrote the most amazing song for my sister, one that still moves me to tears, reminds me of that time, her courage, the darkness.
And then I finished college, began to work at a real job, and the writing slowed as her health went back to normal. I'm not quite sure when I picked it back up again, but for me, writing has always been a natural place, therapeutic, my own personal getaway.
Over the years, I wrote a novel, finished it, shelved it, wrote another one. Always writing, but more for hobby than anything actually professional. I never even thought of being published.
Then one day it hit me. What if I could do this thing for real? Have something out there in book world with my name on it? It would be a dream. I love books, I love reading, I love writing, it's a natural progression and with each edit and each book I've written, I've seen myself grow. I don't know where the end of the road is, whether or not I'll ever find that dream agent, but I do know that I'll always write. It heals me in a way few other things can.
Even now, I'm sitting at a party, rock band and singing in the background *taps my foot to the music*, typing away at my keyboard with a smile. There's something about words that sets me free. I can't explain it exactly, but I bet you know what I mean.
And my sister? She's still my biggest fan and reads everything I write. She's a walking inspiration.
What about you? Why do you write?