Before I get into the meat of the post, I want to give a shout out to my Google+ Community "The Wordsmith Inkwell" I formed this group a couple of months ago and I have found some amazing people there, special shout out to Ray, Vex, and Elesha, for making it something I look forward to everyday. Vex, an author hailing from South Africa, posted a question about why we write, and then used the discussion to form her latest blog post. It is one of my favorite blog posts I've seen this year, check it out http://vexvaudlain.blogspot.com/2014/11/is-it-love-or-insanity-why-writers-write.html.
There are two things I want you everyone to learn from this. One: Being a part of a writing community where you can share and learn is a huge leg up on conquering your writing goals. Two: There are times where someone else can spurn something deep inside of you, and that is exactly what her post did. What usually is a short response to a discussion on my community, turned into a post I am proud of because it is my truth to why I write. I have posted here before on why I write, and its importance to me, but here it is again, raw, and honest. I challenge you to do the same, revisit the reason you write, you may think you have the answer, but you may surprise yourself. Below is my post taken straight from my Google+ Community.
I must write to stay sane. Since I was a kid I have had stories,
characters, what-ifs, things that seemed so real to me I had trouble
separating my thoughts between life and imagination. I would spend
hours, each day thinking about being an astronaut, soldier, scientist,
teacher, serial killer, detective, doctor, time traveler, and so forth.
I
escaped in my head to places from King Arthur's Court, to walking on
the moon, to winning the World Series, to traveling to the future and
meeting the first aliens. I survived in these places, to help ignore the
disasters of growing up in different homes, group housing, and many
days not knowing where I would go to sleep or what I would be able to
eat.
I made homes in these imaginary places, I made friends with
these characters, I grew up in these stories. And now I learn to write
them. I learn everyday by writing, and reading, and thinking, and
talking about writing. I endeavor to master my story telling, my style,
my voice and my technique. I was and continue to be deeply inspired by
story tellers, the great writers, and the worlds they build, and it is
my hope that I can give my readers the same wonder, the same emotion,
and the same escape that was given to me when I needed it most.
I
must write to tell the stories of the people and places that saved me
from my darkest moments. I feel their stories are as important as any
others I have read, they have always spoken to me, in my heart where
stories belong. I can only hope that my stories will find the readers
that need them most, and maybe, just maybe, after reading something I
have written, they too will be inspired to take the journey and to share
their stories with others, and most of all I hope, in the darkness,
there is a little bit of sanity.
* * *
I am reluctant to share what's above in some ways, and maybe that is the reason I didn't post it quite like that in a previous post. Don't let me misguide you to think I had the worst childhood, because I didn't, in fact I'd say I had better than most. I post it because it is deeply personal for me, and I hope it brings the same out for you. I believe that if you can truly peel back the layers inside of you, and get down to why you write, then you will get a step closer to finding the permission to write that every writer searches for.
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