It’s been almost two years since I discovered my love for written words. I’ve been an avid reader for several years. Mostly fantasy fiction series, but I also appreciate a good historical novel or the occasional biography. However, being behind the words was never really on my radar. Sure, like most people have, I’ve pondered the idea of writing a book. Now and then a brief story line coming to mind. But it was never serious. I think I lacked the confidence to ever think it might be possible.
Well, a year and a half ago, I was going about my daily life when an old friend called out of the blue. She asked if I had ever considered writing, and if I would be interested in writing for the local magazine she edited. “Um…..maybe?” I said. I had never written outside of school assignments before and really had no idea what she was looking for. Apparently, one of her writers had to drop out on her last minute. She needed someone to cover an article and it needed to be done quickly. As she was sitting at her desk, my name popped into her head. She quickly ran to my sister’s office next door to see what she thought of the idea. When my sister admittedly agreed that I would be a great fit, my friend gave me a call. So, off I went into the world of writing. My friend and I spent a whole Saturday touring in-home bars, and then i started putting words to the page. It wasn’t without its pressure. I often found myself unable to arrange the words the way I thought they needed to be. Worried my thoughts wouldn’t be clear and engaging. Terrified I would put myself out there, try something new, and be horrible. Well, they published that first article. Then I was asked to do another. And another. And another. Soon, I found myself writing at least one article for most issues of this local magazine. Each time I sat down to an empty screen, I prayed and willed the words to come. Sometimes it was easy; others I found myself struggling.
In the midst of these articles, I would receive messages from people. “I read your article, it was so good.” “I had no idea you liked to write.” “Have you always wanted to be a writer?” That was the question that threw me the most. Have I always wanted to be a writer? Nope. Did I go to school for writing? Nope. How did I get started in it then? It kinda fell into my lap…
It wasn’t ever something I seriously imagined myself doing. In fact, I liked numbers. I went to business school, and seriously considered being an accountant.
However, here I am, a year and a half after my first article came out, and I love writing. I often find myself going about my day, and an idea for a post pops into my head. Sometimes it gets written down and put on my facebook wall, sometimes it floats around for awhile. I’ll find myself sampling sentences here and there, but never writing them down. The words eventually evaporate away. This happens more than I would like to admit. I usually decide it's not a thought anyone would be interested in. No one would care enough to read it. So why would I bother to write it down? It simply takes extra time that I don’t have. But the ideas keep coming. I’m writing posts in my head, and dreaming of images to go with my titles. I can’t stop myself from thinking in terms of a blog.
So, here I am. Ready to try to make my writing real. To be tangible with the words that float through my mind. To be vulnerable and open with my thoughts and fears. To put my words out into the world, if not for others, then at least for myself. To turn these thoughts into written words. The written word is what I love. So behind the written words, I must explore.