A Year for Writing

I've been writing since I was little. I remember enjoying storytelling way back then. The cover of a book called Nobody Wants Barkley, by Marilyn Anderson, is still taking up space in my childhood memories. My tiny hands picking it up off the shelf, which I grabbed solely due to the art on the cover. I remember my thumbs brushing over the image on the front. My little empathetic heart was drawn to the fuzzy little terrier drawing. The sad expression as he lay in a cardboard box drew me to it. Barkley and his world needed to be understood. I had to find out what was going on with him. I wanted Barkley! It was one of the first chapter books that nabbed me into becoming an avid reader and explorer of endless worlds.

I became hooked on the power of story. I found out then that words brought so much power to emotion. I wanted to do that. They could make you cry, laugh, feel scared, happy, anxious, and curious. I wrote my first story at school for young authors, and I'll never forget writing in my best penmanship and then eventually using the ancient typewriter. I loved hearing the clomp, clomp, clomp as each letter slapped the page, and the way the whole thing would jerk as it returned to start another line.

The stories unfolded back then innocently, and I'm happy to say I never quit. I went through the years with my pencil and paper. It became an escape for me. I loved how it made me feel, or even how I could be in a horrible mood and use my mind to escape.

I wrote angsty poems as a tween and teen and pasted them to my closet. I really was working through some things... Okay! Through the years, I have continued to write. Some were seen by others. I had helped with blog posts, which were geared to help the nonprofits I was part of. Though I was passionate about what I was writing, it wasn't my stories.

Those stories and poems were still tucked away in a drawer, not seeing the light of day. I wanted them to, but... Unlike childhood, I have experienced that my adult ego made me uneasy about putting myself out there. Vulnerability was not something I was ready for, considering I already had LIFE and all its fun side quests demanding my time.

So getting to the point, 'A Year for Writing,' is about right now! The here and now!

Do I have more time in my life right now? Nope!Do I still think I'll feel vulnerable? Yup!

Here's the thing, this year has not been easy. Beyond the things that go on in a single mom's life, I also chose to throw myself into volunteering on top of the typical daily responsibilities of adulthood. You know... Job, household stuff, kids' activities, and bills. Then there are the things that you don't expect. The side quests. Sometimes those are great, but this year they were terrible.

Injury, illness, death, surgery, PT, and lately a root canal.

It has been the most devastating time, and I did my go-to. Writing! At first it was angry writing, but that threatened to drag me down into a much darker abyss. I realized I needed to do something different. I needed something to relieve my pain.

I always wanted to write something funny, so I started, and eventually I felt that same bloom of story starting again. When I wasn't writing, I found myself wanting to revisit my story and the people in it. I stopped thinking about all the other things in my life that could distract me from writing.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't going to stop my responsibilities, but I stopped saying I didn't have time. I did, and more importantly, it was healing for me. I didn't expect to find myself at the end of the manuscript, getting ready to edit the second draft. 8,000 words turned to 10,000, jumped to 36,000, and when I found I reached over a threshold of 100,000 words, I was floored and freed. Yes, I will have to cut out some words, but I was tickled pink that I was where I was at.

I still have a lot going on, but my point is that life does not stop happening. Our time ahead is less than what is behind us. So I choose to write and be vulnerable. I started this blog to find others that feel the same and find some camaraderie.